


The Warrior, The Stranger and the Chance

by JailynnW



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fixing the mess of season 8 episode 5, Friendship, I just want Jaime to be smarter, Just want to get that out there, Past Relationship(s), Resurrection, Second Chances, Slow Build, Unrequited Love, not cersei friendly, the rating is for later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-03-02 17:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 77,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18815275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JailynnW/pseuds/JailynnW
Summary: Out of all the ways he thought about dying, death by stoning wasn't even on the list. He always envisioned himself in battle with a sword in his hand and honor on his side. He should have known that wasn't going to be how it played out.





	1. Gods Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> I need something. I thought about this story after the episode. This might get out of character, but since we are already dealing with an OOC Jaime (thank D&D for that hot mess) I thought why the hell not. Not really edited either. Sorry for all mistakes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. Trust me, my bank account can attest to that. All characters and properties are owned by GRRM, HBO and unfortunately, D&D

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48043106187/in/dateposted/)  
Beautiful art work done by: Ro Nordmann

<<>><<>>

This was the end. He was trapped like a mouse. The screaming outside made his blood run cold in his veins. Jaime felt the stones fall around him and held his sister tighter. Out of all the ways he thought about dying, death by stoning wasn't even on the list. He always envisioned himself in battle with a sword in his hand and honor on his side. He should have known that wasn't going to be how it played out. Cersei buried her face in his chest, hunching her body and using him as a last shield against the falling debris. He let her. This was her doing. The dye was cast when she refused to think of anyone but herself. He was just a pawn. A fool at her court. Jaime felt the first really heavy chunks of the stone work hit his back, breaking bones and he lets out a grunt of pain.

It won't be long now. The bitter taste of bile rose in his throat. This wasn't how he wanted to die he thought again. Cersei whimpered and he lifted his head from her shoulder. She pleaded with him to save her. He never could. Another failure. He couldn't save anyone. _You saved Brienne_ , the small voice inside his head reminded him. _You also destroyed her_.

“Look at me,” he rubbed the dirt from Cersei's face. “We're the only ones that matter. Keep your eyes on mine.”

She nodded, stepping from his arms just far enough. The boulder hit the top of her head, cracking her skull like a rippened watermelon, blood coated her face. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed in his arms. The next large one hit his shoulder. His arm went numb and he almost dropped Cersei to the ground. The next group fell harder and faster and he felt the weight of each one until he was getting buried by them. He watched with resignation as his sister took her last breath, a chunk of pillar crumbled down and crushed her first. He should have been crying, but his eyes were bone dry.

He had nothing left to give.

As the last of the Red Keep fell, he closed his eyes and saw deep, blue.

This wasn't how he wanted to die...

<<>><<>>

Jaime Lannister was being judged. He was always being judged but this time his fate fell to the seven Gods. He was kneeling on the ground, his wrists chained, his hands clasped together before the dais which held seven shadowy figures seated and eyeing him. He looked down at the chains, they glowed bright gold, each link another deed he had to atone for. He could see images floating around the golden hue. Bran pushed from the window in one. Cersei and he locked in an embrace while she let the city burn. Brienne's broken, sobbing form in another.

He stopped looking. He didn't want to see what other moments were captured in them. He knew he wasn't a good man. He tilted his head back up and tried to make out the features of each one of the Gods he was taught to pray to as a child. Jaime couldn't see anything clearly, the aura around them was too bright. There faces blurred with only the hint of definition. He was starting to get anxious. The silence was unbearable, but his sharp tongue was heavy in his mouth and he couldn't seem to speak. So the quiet continued to build.

Finally the first God stood. He was tall and almost regal. His clothes were gold and white and shimmered as he walked to the where Jaime was kneeling. The Father, that's who this one was, stopped and then spoke. His voice was rough but not harsh, “You are not mine.” He said. “You have fathered three children,” _Four_ Jaime thought. “No, Jaime Lannister, only three.” Jaime's head snapped up. _Had he spoken outloud? _“No need to speak your thoughts out loud. We can hear everything. We can see everything.”__

_Well then_ , he didn't know what he was doing, challenging the Gods, but he never was the brightest... “Cersei was pregnant.”

“She was not,” another God spoke. A woman. The Mother. Her voice was stern but kind. “She was not. The mind can play tricks when the heart wants so badly to believe.”

Jaime honestly doesn't know if he is relieved or devastated by that. Cersei wasn't pregnant. Everything they did, everything she did was for a false truth. The Father continued as if he was never interrupted.

“You are not mine. You fathered three children but were never a true father to any. Justice never came from your hand when they needed it. I do not claim your soul.” He moved to the side and the Mother stepped forward.

“You are not mine,” she waved her hand and the dress of silk she wore floated around her wrist. “You showed mercy rarely. You hurt my children too easily and with great malice.” She wrapped her hand around the arm of the Father. “I do not claim your soul.”

Together they walked out of the room, a mist the only thing left behind. The next to rise is the Smith. He held a large hammer in one hand and he walked with a heaviness the Father and Mother did not. He stood before Jaime, “You are not mine,” his voice hard like steel that's been tempered and formed. “You have broken many things. Young boys and oaths. You have not mended any of which you have destroyed.” He took another step down toward Jaime. “I do not claim your soul.”

The Smith walked past him and away. Jaime could feel the weight of his chains increasing with each refusal. Did he really believe he would be welcomed in the heavens? He, who raged and defied the very Gods that were judging him, really believed he would end up anywhere but in the seven hells?

The next to lift from their seat was the Maiden. She was small with long hair that bounced on her shoulders as she walked gracefully toward him. Her hands clasped in front of her and she smiled at him.

“You are not mine,” her voice was musical and light. “You have protected the innocent while also killing innocence in others. I have seen you tear apart kind hearts for your own selfishness. And when you were given a chance to finally be altruistic you chose the wrong path. The dark path your sister created. For this I can not accept you. I do not claim your soul.”

The young looking God exited to the right of him, the scent of daisies following her. He can't say he is shocked. The Maiden was too pure for him. Like Brienne. She was too pure for him so he had to dirty her soul to make it worthy of him. Why haven't they sent him to the rings of the hells yet?

The Crone stood next. She carried a lamp in her left hand, her body hunched but still seemingly strong. She stopped at the top step, “You are not mine,” her voice soft and ancient sounding. “You have been given wisdom and have ignored it in the favor of one that was never meant for you. Accepted death for another unworthy and stupider than you. You, Jaime Lannister, have taken truth and believed the lies instead. I can not accept a soul so blind. I do not claim you.”

She descended down the steps past him slowly then she was gone. That left the two he had always expected he would face. The Stranger floated above the ground. He extended his bony finger and pointed at Jaime. The space were his mouth should be was a gaping hole of blackness. A screeching, piercing sound escaped, making Jaime wince. He knew if the Warrior, the one God he looked to the most, didn't take him, the Stranger would drag him down to the pits. He deserved nothing more than that, but hoped... maybe.

Briefly his thoughts went to his sister. Where did she go? Who took her? He was afraid of the answer. For all the things he did wrong in his life, he had some balance- Cersei did not. She did what she did for herself and by extension her kids. But it was always her first, he was never blind to that, he always knew her as Tyrion had told him in Winterfell.

The Stranger moved across the floor, cold air following him. He would have shivered at the chill if his wrists hadn't been bound by his actions. Finally the Warrior stood. His armor silver and pristine. A long sword rested against his hip, a pale blue cloak floated behind him. The God stood strong in front of Jaime. Jaime lifted his eyes to meet his fate.

“You are mine,” the Warrior said. The voice was one of a general commanding his troops into battle. Jaime felt relief flood through him. He would be taken, he would not be cast out. “But it is not your time to reside at my side. You were not meant to die as the Crone said. Your sister was meant to die, you were meant for more. I will accept your soul as it is mine to take, but not now. You must right the wrong. You are to be sent back. This is your chance to be the man that I helped create and you carelessly destroyed for someone that deserved much worse than what we gave her.”

Jaime felt sick, “Cersei wasn't always like that.” He defended because he has always defended her. It was what he did. “She was just broken by the loss of her children. Of our children.”

“You are a soldier, Jaime,” The Warrior said with authority that booked no argument. “Mothers lose children all the time in much worse ways and ever become the heartless woman Cersei of House Lannister did. Your sister was rotten at birth and the blackness only got more extreme with age. You are not her.” _'You're not your sister. You're not_. her voice. Brienne. Gods. “My other child was right. You should have listened to her.”

“I wanted to,” Jaime bent his head. “Cersei was...”

“A disease,” the God boomed at him. “But I will give you another chance to change your fate. If you end up here before your time again, I will not accept your soul and you will be cast into the hells that await the unworthy. Choose your path wisely, Jaime of House Lannister.”

Swiftly the Warrior picked up his sword and swung at Jaime. He flinched and then the world went white.

<<>><<>>

Jaime woke with a jolt. His heart was pounding in his chest. His stomach clenched painfully from hunger and thirst and with what had just happened. The Gods had given him another chance. He lifted his hands to find them chained still. He looked around him, trying to pinpoint where he was. A dungeon. Robb Stark's dungeon, which meant...

The cell door opened and there stood Catelyn Stark in all her living glory and right behind her was the tallest woman he had ever known. _Brienne_.


	2. To King's Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne stood stoically behind Catelyn. Her face completely devoid of the softness he was used to seeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you to every one that left kudos and comments. The response has been overwhelming and I really hope you continue to enjoy it. Please let me know what you think.
> 
> Please forgive any and all mistakes. Unfortunately not matter how hard I try I can never find them all...

<<>><<>>

Brienne stood stoically behind Catelyn. Her face completely devoid of the softness he was used to seeing. _Of course she doesn't know you,_ he thought sadly. At this moment in time, Brienne of Tarth hated him for what she thought he was and for what he did. _You proved her concerns right, though didn't you?_ Jaime has never cared for the taste of bitter truth, maybe that's why it was always so easy to believe Cersei's sweet lies.

He turned his attention to Catelyn but his mind never strayed too far from her sworn sword. Gods she doesn't know what they might eventually be to each other or what he might eventually do to her. She didn't have their shared experiences in her head the way he did. She doesn't recall the feel of his mouth on hers or how her body fit against his while they moved under the sheets. His cock buried deep in her cunt. He swallowed. Her brilliant blue eyes narrowed when his eyes slid back to hers hungrily, distrust was written plain as day across her face. He almost winked at her with a haughty smirk, stopping himself just in time.

Catelyn talked about the men outside the cage and he responded in the way he did back then. The carelessness he had for Robb's men then was the same as he has now. It was war. Death was apart of it. They were not his family or his men. He just didn't care.

“Is that a woman?” Jaime asked just to see the pink flood her cheeks the way it did the first time he asked. Brienne's large lips tightened in a frown and the blush that he wanted to see bloomed like the roses of Highgarden. She stepped further into the cell, close enough the fire from the torches danced on her pale skin, making it glow. How could he not notice that before? _Because of Cersei,_ a voice hissed in his ear. He took a sharp breath. The thought that his sister would be alive made him want to get back to her. Gods there was something wrong with him... But his last memory of her, with blood oozing from her head wound and her body crushed wasn't what he wanted in his mind. “Where did you find this beast?” 

Brienne doesn't look away from him, those cerulean orbs burned right through him and he struggled to keep his breathing under control. Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, her fist curling and uncurling around the metal. He wanted to smile thinking about their first proper fight. The way she moved with steel in hand. He would get a chance to relive that. He would get to dance with Lady Brienne once again and he could hardly contain himself. Maybe this time he would win outright. 

“She is a truer knight than you ever were, Kingslayer,” Catelyn told him forcefully.

He could never agree with her assessment out loud, not now, but inside he felt the wisdom of those words. Brienne had always been a better knight, but not just better than him, better than every one of the bastards that held the title. _At least I knighted her._ Of course then he tainted it by being so cruel to her. _But that's one of the things I can rectify. One of the reasons I've been sent back._ It crossed his mind briefly to wonder about the timing. Why did the Warrior pick now? Was this when he started down the wrong path? He didn't believe so. In fact it was meeting Brienne that changed him. Made him think about things he had long since forgotten or completely ignored. 

He stuck to the script while talking with the older woman, even though the words felt like acid in his mouth when he spoke of how true he was to Cersei, especially when at that moment Brienne's moans of pleasure rang in his ears. He goaded Catelyn to call for Brienne's sword. He did love the sound of steel sliding from the sheath. She gave the blade to her lady and the promises were forced from his lips. The first time this happened, Jaime remembered being bitter and angry that he was made to swear at blade point. This time he was amused. After he had sworn enough to please the Lady of Winterfell, she grabbed a goblet and held it to his lips.

Jaime tried not to swallow as much of the wine this time around. He remembered how drunk he was that next day but he didn't have much of a choice. The bitter drink slid down his throat and he gulped it greedily. Soon the effects of the fine Dornish Red warmed his blood and made him feel like he was floating. He turned his attention back to Brienne. The woman looked confused then annoyed at his continued fascination. A laugh bubbled up the back of his throat, he swallowed it back down before burping and passing out. The last thought he had was he would annoy her much more than she realized in the coming years and he so enjoyed watching her squirm.

<<>><<>>

The burlap sack was pulled from his head and he winced at the bright sunlight. Jaime blinked rapidly. The trees around him started to spin and he wanted to vomit right there on the ground. Instead he took several deep breaths, waiting for the nausea to subside. He chanced a glance at his captor. The early morning day light really didn't do much for her features. Her large blue eyes lock on his and his breath caught in his throat. She would always be ugly of face but those gorgeous eyes could bring him to his knees. 

“You're much uglier in the day light.” Brienne scowled at him, pulling him up roughly. He once again wondered how much he should change in what transpired between them. Deciding he should ask about her, even though he knew everything already, he started with something easy, “What's your name?” He was met with stubborn silence. “A man has the right to know his captor.”

Her eyes cut into him, daggers through his skin and she stayed silent. _Oh yes,_ he chuckled to himself. _I remember this. I remember when you couldn't stand to look at me. When my presence repulsed you._ Some of his good cheer decreased. _I bet I would have repulsed you again if I turned up at Winterfell after Cersei._ Shaking the thoughts from his head he continued to press her.

“It's a long way to King's Landing. We might as well get to know each other.”

“I know enough about you,” Brienne finally spoke. Her voice clipped and terse with him. “Kingslayer.”

It hurt. It shouldn't have. He knew the name was coming, but it's been so long since he has been anything but Ser Jaime to her. _She doesn't know that though._ His head was getting more and more confused both from the hang over and Brienne's treatment. He wanted the soft warrior that laughed uproariously when he tickled the curve between the side of her flat stomach and her hip. _You had her, you fucker. And you let her go for Cersei. You're lucky the Gods gave you a second chance._

“I wouldn't be too sure about that,” he grunted as she pulled him along none to gently. “I'm sure you're curious to know more about the famous Kingslayer, Brienne. Go on. Ask me anything. I promise to be very forthcoming.”

She paused, turning slowly to face him. Her face was clouded with confusion. “How do you know my name? You just asked... I never told you.” 

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_ Jaime shrugged, trying to think of something. “Lady Catelyn.” He covered his discomfort with a mocking smirk, smoothing his bound hands down the front of his rags. “She called you that when she asked for the sword that she placed at my neck. Not likely to forget that, now am I?”

Brienne eyed him with growing suspicion. “Then why did you ask...”

“Your speech,” he used his chained hands to itch the back of his head. He felt the bugs crawling on him and he grimaced in disgust. “You are obviously a highborn lady. I just wanted to know from where.”

“I'm not a lady,” she replied sullenly and continued to pull him along.

“Oh,” he chortled at her, “I believe we can both agree on that. But maybe you can show me what you are hiding in those breeches, just so I can be sure.” He licked his lips. “I bet you would love to know what it feels like to be a woman. To have a man throw you down and rip off your clothes.” The back of her neck turned a Lannister red. “You haven't met anyone strong enough.” He paused, enjoying the way her steps slowed. “I'm strong enough.”

She glared at him over her shoulder and he took great pleasure in seeing the blotchy crimson in her cheeks. “Not interested.” _Liar_. He smirked knowingly to himself. They reached the shore line and she pulled a small skiff close. “Get in.”

Jaime complied, awkwardly climbing into the boat with his restraints. The boat rocked as he settled on the seat, stretching his long legs out. Brienne carefully took her place at the other end, making damn sure not to touch him in anyway that wasn't necessary. Then she pushed them off from the shore and started moving them downstream. 

“Where are you from?”

“Tarth,” she said between strokes. “I'm Brienne of Tarth.” 

“A tiny rock,” he thought back to when he floated past it on his way to Dorne. The way the green mountains looked against the bluest waters he had ever seen. “Crescent moons and starbursts. Lord Selwyn Tarth, your father? Isn't that in the Stormlands? How did you come to be in service to the Starks?”

“Why do you want to know Kingslayer?”

“Just trying to make conversation wench,” he responded.

“I'm not a wench,” her cheeks were flushed again both from rowing and from him bothering her. “My name is Brienne, Kingslayer.”

“Well since we are exchanging names,” he leaned forward the chains rattling with each movement. “My name is Jaime Lannister. Not Kingslayer.”

Her astonishing eyes flashed but she kept her mouth shut. The quiet stretched out between them and Jaime watched her. She looked so much younger than when he left her at Winterfell. Her innocence was still intact and she hadn't yet faced the horrors of war. _She also hasn't met the horrors of you yet either._ Jaime suddenly wanted to apologize for that night. He wanted to tell her that their time together had meant something to him, but of course he couldn't. Brienne wouldn't understand. She would think him mad and maybe she would be right. She noticed him staring after a moment and started shifting slightly on her bench. He took pity on her, removing his gaze from her to their surroundings.

The trip together remained much the same as it had the first time. He got a thrill out of watching her dispatch those Stark soldiers in that brutal fashion that was completely hers. His blood had rushed south, making his cock hard and his mind filled with filthy thoughts of dragging her into the bush and claiming her. She never looked more sexy to him then when her eyes blazed with battle lust because that's when she was her most confident. And a confident Brienne was an almost impossible to resist Brienne. How he managed to for so long spoke to his delusional state of mind. 

When they ran into the farmer in the woods, Jaime gritted his teeth. Like before he urged Brienne to take care of this guy, whom he knew to be the one that told the Bloody Mummers about them. Brienne in all her goodness refused, “I'll hurt no innocent people.”

 _He isn't innocent,_ he thought with a deep frown. 

Jaime started to get antsy the closer to the bridge they got. He looked down at his right hand. His sword hand. The one he gave up to protect her from being raped so violently. If they didn't fight here... would he get to keep it? This is where the Bloody Mummers found them and it was partly his fault they did. If they hadn't been fighting... 

Still his hand itched for a sword. He wanted to dance with her. He wanted to feel the crash of their swords kissing. He flexed his fingers. This would be a change to their story. It would erase their time at Harrenhall. It would make sure she never got thrown in that bear pit. They would never share that bath where he bared his soul and she would never hold them while her naked skin was against his. But he would have his _hand_. The Maiden called him selfish. He couldn't deny that he was. Especially since in the end, he didn't reach for the sword, not yet. He would dance with her later. He would dance with her _properly_. This time without chains.

Brienne stopped short after a little while. Her head swinging toward the east. That's when he heard it too. The whoosh of an arrow that sailed past them, the clap of hooves. The Bloody Mummers have found them after all. Jaime felt defeated as the riders got closer and closer to where they were. Brienne pulled her sword out, ready to defend him. He wished he had taken that damned sword.

“Wench,” he hissed, “Unchain me. Give me a sword. Let me defend myself.”

She hesitated. “You are under my protection.”

Jaime wanted to scream that her protection didn't save them last time and wouldn't save them now, but he knew his words would meet deaf ears. “Wench, please...”

The riders were getting even closer. The number of horses was concerning and Brienne did something he never expected her to, she handed him a sword. “I don't trust you, Kingslayer,” she grounded out the words. “But you deserve to defend yourself. I'm not unchaining you.” The last part was almost an after thought. He stared at her in surprise then snapped his mouth shut.

Through the trees the men on horse back appeared and Brienne prepared for battle. Jaime tested the weight of the blade. It wasn't his, but it would work. The face of that bastard Locke grinned down at them. Jaime tightened his hand around the hilt, wanting nothing but revenge. 

“What do we have here? A man in chains with his wife leading him by the throat.” Locke leaned over the neck of his horse.

“None of your concern,” Brienne spoke clearly. Her back was straight. Her knuckles white with how tight she was holding the handle.

“Oh,” he dropped down from his mount, walking over to her with a small swagger. “I don't think that's true.” He looked over her shoulder at Jaime. “I think it's very much our concern.”

He moved toward Jaime and Brienne swung cracking him on the back of the head. More riders jumped down. The battle begun.

<<>><<>>


	3. The Inn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime felt _alive_. Next to fucking, fighting was the most satisfying thing in the world to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all don't mind the rapid fire chapters. I'm trying to get as much out before the heartbreak continues on Sunday. Thank you again for the words of encouragement, the kudos and for reading this. All the support has meant the world to me...

 

<<>><<>>

Jaime felt _alive_. Next to fucking, fighting was the most satisfying thing in the world to him. He had so missed this feeling. The clang of metal against metal. The idea that one wrong move could lead to death. It was invigorating to slice through an enemy. Clean cuts and blood spilling from wounds. It made his body pulse with energy. He bounced on the balls of his feet, moving this way and that. Lunge to the left, parry to the right, spin, advance, advance, advance, push them back and finally summon the Stranger to take them. He grinned like a madman. His green eyes fell upon Brienne, locked in her own combat. She had that same look in her eyes. The song of steel was claiming her too. 

 

The Bloody Mummers fought without much formal skill but it didn't take skill to be lucky and sometimes luck won the battle. Not this time though. Brienne was too good. Jaime was better. This was what he was made for. He made sure to be the one to fight Locke when he finally woke up from her knock to his skull. Jaime's smile turned especially vicious. His sword hand flexed in anticipation of paying back the debt he hadn't been able to before. 

 

 _Get up you fucking coward_ , he thought a moment before he swung at him. He kept swinging the blade, forcing Locke to keep backing up until his back hit a tree. Their swords crossed, sparks flying from them. The other man was strong and pushed hard to gain some leverage. Jaime wasn't going to let that happen. He had dreamed of this moment every night since the bastard brought the blade down and his hand was detached from his wrist. This kill was _his_. He moved swiftly, ducking down and sliding his blade across Locke's chest before plunging it in to the softest part of his belly. Locke's black eyes bulged out, blood trickled from his mouth and Jaime leaned in close. He wanted the final thing this shit saw to be his face.

 

 The Bloody Mummer's body slumped as he removed the blade slowly from his midsection. The thrill of victory was short lived though. Brienne screamed behind him. He turned quickly, just in time to see her get sliced in the back of her calf. There was an arrow in her shoulder and her cheek had blood thickly coating it. Jaime grew angry at the sight. He pulled the swordsman off her, making quick work of him. His throat opening under the sharp metal. Brienne gave him a small smile before pushing him out of the way and engaging with the man that had snuck up on him.

 

 Soon the last of the men, who hadn't mounted their horse and fled the losing fight, littered the ground. Jaime was breathing heavily and then he started laughing. His companion looked at him like he had lost his mind, but her lips pulled back into a wide grin of her own. Her smile was all large teeth and big lips and he couldn't think of a more perfect one. The need to take her in his arms and kiss her was working up his spine like a snake worked it's way up a tree. He took a step toward her, lust a siren's song in his veins, her irresistible eyes widened and she retreated, her walls closing him back out.

 

“Thank you,” she mumbled to the ground. “You fought well.”

 

“So did you,” He said honestly. He gripped and released the handle of his sword before handing it back to her reluctantly. She took it silently, sheathing it as well as hers. Jaime looked at the horses that were left from the men they killed. “How nice of them to give us their mounts.”

 

She snorted, “Didn't have much of a choice.”

 

“No,” he agreed, patting the neck of a gray palfrey, hoping the chains around his wrists wouldn't spook the beast. “They didn't.” He climbed up into the saddle, “Come wench. You promised to deliver me to my dear brother.” A glare was sent his way at the name, Jaime just arched an eyebrow. Before she grabbed the reins of a brown charger, she went through some of the other saddle bags, pulling supplies that she thought they might need. _Smart_ , he mused and wondered why he hadn't thought to do it himself. She loaded the extra supplies onto the horse and climbed up. The larger mount seemed to recognized his new rider instantly. Brienne hissed in pain as she settled more firmly onto the beast. “We'll need to make camp tonight. Your wounds need to be cleaned and looked at, wench.”

 

“I'm fine, Kingslayer,” her skin paled slightly. “You worry about your own wounds.”

 

He opened his mouth to tell her he didn't have any when he realized his right eye felt strange. He lifted his hand to his brow and his fingers came away with blood on them. He took a moment to evaluate the rest of his body and surmised that he probably had some new cuts to his skin that would scar and some bruises that would turn a deep shade of purple in the coming days. All in all he'd take it. Jaime glanced down at his hand, flexing it just because he could.

 

<<>><<>>

 

It was about two weeks into the journey when he noticed how sick she was looking. Her body that was always straight while riding was slumping in the saddle. Her forehead was soaked with sweat and she shivered in the dead of heat. Jaime pushed his horse to ride along side hers. Brienne coughed a little into her hand, but refused to stop.

 

“I said,” she wheezed, “I would get you to your brother. I will keep that oath.”

 

“You won't if you are dead of illness, wench,” he growled at her, concern gnawed at his insides.

 

That forced her to sit up straight, defiance replaced illness in her sapphire eyes. “I'm fine, Kingslayer.”

 

 _Obstinate pain in the ass_ , he thought with a small amount of fondness, kicking his horse to stay in step with hers.

 

The next night he forced her to make a fire and it was telling that she didn't argue with him. She even removed the manacles from his wrists. He rubbed at the skin that was raw from the metal, never taking his eyes from hers.

 

She shrugged, “If you wanted to escape,” she labored through her words, “you could have killed me when I gave you the sword. I'm not saying I trust you, but...” she trailed off into a coughing fit.

 

Her arms curled around her middle as she moved as close to the flames as she dared. A shiver shook her body and she bent in on herself more. He watched her. Her part of the rabbit they managed to kill was untouched. He tried to recall the last time he had actually seen her eat a proper meal and couldn't. Jaime rose from the fallen tree he was sitting on and over to her. Her eyes were unfocused as she tilted her head up to look at him.

 

“You need a maester,” he told her kneeling on the ground in front of her. She didn't answer. Instead she curled up on her side and coughed into her hand. Brienne closed her eyes, her breath rattling in her chest. He placed the back of his hand on her forehead when he knew she was asleep, she was burning up and her skin felt clammy. Jaime cursed under his breath. He went to the saddle bag on the ground, searching for a clean cloth and a flagon of water as well as the thin blanket that was rolled up on the side. Coming back to her, he placed the blanket over her and wet the cloth, wiping down her forehead. “You are the most stubborn, pigheaded, damnable woman I have ever met.”

 

Jaime spent the rest of the night by her side, hoping the fever would break by the morn. He looked around them. They were getting closer to some of the villages on the outskirts of King's Landing. If they could ride one more day, he was sure he could find an Inn. She just had to make it through the night.

 

<<>><<>>

 

It was with great relief that she was a little more awake the next day. Her fever was still burning through her body but she had a little more color in her cheeks and Jaime was sure she wouldn't die on him. He helped her onto her horse, tying his own to the horn of her saddle before climbing up behind her. She startled at his front pressed so closely to her back. Their thighs pressed against each other.

 

“You can barely stand wench,” he kicked the charger into a trot, “You really think you can stay on a horse without falling off and cracking that hard head of yours on the ground.”

 

“I can ride just fine, Kingslayer,” her words don't carry the bite she wanted them to because immediately after she finished that cursed name, she started coughing so hard it actually looked painful.

 

“I'm sure you can, wench,” he replied sarcastically.

 

This time she doesn't respond.

 

<<>><<>>

 

By the time they made it to the first village they saw, Brienne's breathing was getting more and more labored. She moaned with each step the horse took. Jaime swallowed roughly. He pushed the mount to get there quicker. The village showed the signs of war. Buildings were gutted, the small folk's faces haunted and weary. The fields were torched. He tried not to meet the eyes of the people he past by and they did the same. The distrust for people they don't know was shown in the tightness of their shoulders and the lines in their faces. Jaime rarely saw this side of battle. He knew about it, but it wasn't something he thought about much. If he did, if he really thought about the ramifications, it would make it harder to do what he needed to do.

 

Which was survive. For his family. For his army. For himself. For Cersei.

 

_For Brienne._

 

He slowed the horses when he came to the inn in the center of town. The sign swung from a broken chain link, the wood almost half gone so Jaime couldn't read the name clearly. He eased himself to the soft dirt, steadying her body as she swayed from the lack of his for support. Carefully he helped her down until her large feet reached the solid earth below. She opened her blurry eyes, looking around her. He wasn't completely sure she saw much of anything.

 

Jaime tied up their horses once he was sure she could support her own weight and then led her into the small Inn. The innkeeper was a round man in his late fifties. His beard was silver with black interlaced through. His eyes were sunken in and small in his broad face.

 

“Welcome,” he said with a voice that was cautious. “What can I do for ya?”

 

“We need a room and a healer,” Jaime answered, carefully observing all that surrounded him. “My wife is very ill.”

 

“So I see,” the innkeeper came closer. “It's mighty hard to find a 'ealer in these parts.”

 

He gritted his teeth, “Is there someone that can help her nearby?”

 

“Might be,” he rolled his lips back, showing his lack of teeth. “Cost is mighty high.”

 

 _Of course it is_ , Jaime thought. “How much for the room?”

 

“Two silvers,” he smiled. “A gold dragon to get the 'ealer.”

 

The price was too high, but Brienne coughed wetly and he gave in. He needed her to get well and he would pay any amount to do that. He just had to be careful. People do desperate stuff in the middle of war. _Like returning to a woman that manipulated you and wanted you dead?_ He grimaced at the thought.

 

The Innkeep led Jaime and Brienne up the narrow staircase to where the rooms were. The older man pushed against a creaky door showing him the room. The floors were dusty, the fireplace small, the bed looked like it was about to collapse, but at least it wasn't the hard ground outside. Jaime nodded to the man and eased Brienne in before slamming the door in the innkeeper's face.

 

Brienne rolled onto her side as soon as her body touched the hay filled mattress. She looked miserable and his heart tugged at him. He wasn't sure how long he stared at her. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, he just knew he could have done it longer. The only thing that stopped him was a knock at the door. He opened it slightly, peering around the rough edge to a young girl with wild strawberry blond hair. Her hazel eyes were bright and seemed to be more intelligent than her age should have allowed. Another part of war was growing up far too quickly.

 

“Sir, you ne'ding of a 'ealer?”

 

He opened the door wider, “My wife is very ill.”

 

She ducked under his arm and went to Brienne's side. “The fever. She been coughing?” He nodded. “Well out with ya. I has work to do.” She pushed against him with more force than he thought she would process then shut the door firmly in his face.

 

He paced the length of the small hallway for a couple moments before deciding to go down stairs and at least get some ale and maybe a hot meal. The bottom part of the inn had a few people at tables drinking and looking for a whore to bed for the night. Jaime took a seat at a table closest to the hearth. The fire was embers now and didn't give off much heat but he took what he could get. The innkeeper's wife, younger than him by at least twenty years, placed a pitcher of ale in front of him and a plate of stale bread with some cheese. He smiled gratefully, tearing off a piece of bread and slowly chewing.

 

His eyes kept darting to the stairs, waiting for the healer to reappear. He hoped Brienne would get better quickly. He didn't want to stay in one place too long, especially when anyone could find him. He wasn't fooling himself into believing no one could recognize him. Even being tired looking and wearing prisoner rags, he was still Jaime Lannister, the golden lion and member of the Kingsguard. He took a large gulp of ale. It was rather horrible but wet his palate enough that the bread didn't choke him on the way down.

 

The steps leading the rooms shook as the young healer descended them quickly. Jaime stood in her way. “How is my wife?”

 

“She be needing herbs to help with the fever and infection,” the young woman said. “A bath to clean the wounds. And rest. Lot of rest.”

 

She swept past him and he took some of the bread and cheese before heading back up the stairs. He opened the door to their room and stopped cold in his tracks. It was clear that the young healer had stripped Brienne of her clothes and her pale, freckled shoulders were exposed to his hungry gaze. There was a wound on her collar, a deep gash where the bear had clawed the other Brienne. It seemed no matter what she would get hurt from just knowing him. Her mouth was parted slightly in sleep and he longed to kiss it.

 

Jaime used to think about those lips every night on his way back to Cersei and King's Landing. Her mouth was a wonder, her tongue a revelation. There were even a couple of times he turned his horse toward the North to go back and sink into those loving arms and beg for forgiveness... He hadn't in the end. He had convinced himself it was his destiny to die with the one he entered the world with. Stupid really. And wrong. The Gods themselves made that very clear.

 

He shut the door behind him and stood in the middle of the room. He should have stayed with her. Jaime wanted to save Cersei and his child... His _child,_ oh that was a bitter thought _..._ but he had also wanted to stay with Brienne. He wanted to be the man that she saw when she looked at him. The man he could never see himself as. The Warrior gave him this second chance to be worthy- but he didn't know if he knew how.

 

Brienne rolled over and the sheet slipped down, the creamy skin at the top of her breasts came into view and he sucked in a deep breath. Unable to resist touching her, he walked over and moved a lock of her straw colored hair off her forehead. She leaned a little into his touch, almost like she recognized his fingers against her skin. He took his hand back reluctantly, stepping away before he did something foolish and sat in the chair in the far corner of the room. It would be his bed for the night and however long they stayed.

 

<<>><<>>

 

Over the next couple of days, Brienne floated in and out of consciousness. The healer brought herbs, treated her wounds and hovered over her. Jaime was forced to leave when the young woman was there. He occupied his time by checking on the horses and keeping an ear open about the happenings in King's Landing. The small folk left no doubt in his mind that Joffrey was _not_ a popular king. He heard rumors about how his son treated the whores and servant girls alike. Even Sansa, his ex bride to be, was getting treated cruelly. Jaime's skin crawled at the whispers. They sounded too much like the horrors he saw people endure at the hands of the mad king.

 

This boy wasn't a Targaryen, however, this was _his_ seed. His and Cersei's monster. He tried to comfort himself by repeating that Robert was to blame, but that hardly held true. When Joffrey killed those kittens and proudly showed Robert, it was the King that punished the boy- not Cersei and certainly not him.

 

 _Justice never came from your hand when they needed it._ That's what the Father told him. It was true and no amount of rationalizing it could change that. Jaime finished brushing down the horses and headed back to the inn. When he reached their room he was pleasantly surprised to see Brienne awake. Awake and bathing. She turned at the sound of the door opening and gasped at him standing there. Her large hands went to cover her meager breasts but not before his eyes could get their fill.

 

“What,” she stuttered, trying to find away to cover everything without moving her hands from her teats. “Leave.”

 

He smirked, “No I don't think I will.” He pulled at the material of his tunic, “Room enough for me? It's been such a long time since I've taken a proper bath.” Her mouth opened and closed, like a fish. The redness that colored her skin had very little to do with the water and everything to do with her embarrassment at him standing there looking at her. His green eyes followed a droplet of water as it slid from her chin, down her neck and settled in the hollow of her collarbone. He wanted so badly to track that drop of water with his tongue. He pushed his thoughts aside and tried to hide the bulge in his pants, gathering his wits and finally he laughed, “Relax wench! I'm not going to force myself on you.” Her protective posture loosen only a little, but her blue eyes still watched him warily. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Better,” she looked down. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

 

“Can't have my protector dying on me before I'm delivered safely to King's Landing can I?”

 

“Right,” she nodded, a frown formed between her brows.

 

A moment stretched between them. Her teeth working at her bottom lip in thought. It got to be too much for him. He needed to leave and quick.

 

“I'll leave you to your bath,” he stepped back out of the room and closed the door tightly behind him. He ran a hand down his face, trying to fight every part of his body telling him to open that fucking door back up and kiss the confusion from her. He knew he couldn't though. She still didn't trust him and he didn't trust himself to stop at one kiss.

 

Because if he was being honest with himself, one kiss would never be enough.

 

<<>><<>>

 

 

 


	4. Truth and Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't easy knowing the future, or rather what the future could be. It was like sitting on a barrel of wildfire waiting for it to explode and take him down.

 

<<>><<>>

 

It wasn't easy knowing the future, or rather what the future could be. It was like sitting on a barrel of wildfire waiting for it to explode and take him down. The closer he got to King's Landing, the more Jaime felt the weight of knowledge on him. So many things could be changed but did he dare?

 

Did he stop his son from ingesting a poison that would cause him to die in pain? If he didn't stop it, would he name Olenna the killer? Did he let his brother get accused of a crime he didn't commit or save him differently than he did before? What of his father? One action led to another and each had a real consequence. One, that with all the knowledge in his head, he could change with simple switch.

 

He tried to come up with a scenario where Joffrey as ruler didn't end horribly for the realm. He couldn't. His son was cruel and filled with entitlement. Innocent people would die by his hand. Jaime had no question in his mind about that... But he was his _son_. Cersei had been devastated by his death. So what did he do? Did he sentence his own flesh and blood to death, maybe not by his hand but by his inaction? Did he saved him and potentially cause harm to hundreds of people that did nothing but exist in this twisted world?

 

_Defend the king from threat and harm. Obey the king. Keep the king's secrets. Serve at your King's pleasure._

 

The Kingsguard oath that he swore was once again at odds with the ones he swore as a knight.

 

_In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother I charge you to protect the young and innocent. In the name of the Maiden I charge you to protect all women..._

 

His eyes shifted to Brienne, riding silently on her horse. What would she do? She never seemed to have as hard of a time as he did at following the right path. Would it be clear to her, which was the more honorable course to take? Would she struggle with her decision? Spend sleepless nights wondering if she should have done something different? Would she have nightmares of a world that could have been? If she had been in his place in front of Aerys, would she have slain him or kept her oath and watched the horror unfold? Jaime never did ask her, really ask her, before.

 

He had posed the question to her when he told her his reasons but they had never pursued the thought. It was forgotten, swept aside. But now, with another dilemma resting on his shoulders, he really wanted to know what she would do. If the Warrior wanted him to try and be the best version of himself then he should listen to the one person whose opinion he trusts the most... but how should he bring it up?

 

He mulled over this for hours, until his head felt like it was going to explode. He never was one for deep thought. Thinking about something only led to not doing it in his experience. Plus it was annoying. The arguing in his head wasn't getting him anywhere. He didn't understand how Tyrion could enjoy it so much, but then again his dear brother was much more clever than Jaime.

 

They made camp in a small clearing as the sun went down. The thick woods were getting more sparse the closer to the city they got. Brienne went about setting up a makeshift tent made from fallen trees and branches to keep out some of the elements while he put a pot of water on the fire to warm for the vegetables and dried venison they bought from the Innkeeper. Once she was done with her task, she sat on the ground in front of the fire. Her illness was almost completely gone except for the occasional cough or wheeze. There were some dark circles under her eyes but even those were starting to fade. Jaime spooned some of the watered down stew into a bowl and handed it to her.

 

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the hot meal. He nodded as he made a bowl for himself. He took a seat next to her, wanting to feel her as close as he thought he could get away with. She only shifted a tiny bit and he took that as a win. He couldn't be completely sure how much she trusted him, but he knew he was making headway. She sipped carefully at the soup, her eyes far off, deep in thought. Finally she turned her head to look at him, “Why didn't you leave me?”

 

He stopped with the spoon almost to his lips, “Leave you?”

 

“You could have,” her eyebrows came together, “you could have taken the horse and one of my swords and gone back to King's Landing alone. You could have broken your oath to Lady Catelyn. Why didn't you?”

 

“Maybe I enjoy your company wench.”

 

Her brilliant eyes narrowed. “No,” she shook her head. “It's not that. I'm not fair of face and most say I have very little wit about me, so I don't believe that's the reason at all.” She turned back to the fire so he wouldn't see the hurt on her face.

 

Jaime swallowed roughly. He knew all about the taunts she received from childhood until the present day. He knew about her past with men that made her distrustful of kindness. He knew about the hateful reactions she got from people that were lesser than her like Ronnet Connington... his hand clenched into a fist. He really hoped he would get to knock that shit out again. He knew about the bets in Renly's camp. He knew it all, but couldn't act like he did. This Brienne hasn't told him and his Brienne only told him begrudgingly.

 

“Well it's true you are very ugly,” he told her even though it felt like he was chewing on glass. “But you are rather fascinating to me. A high born lady that swings a sword better than most men and seems to actually believe in the honor of knights even though some of them are the very men that are the cruelest because they _want_ to be.”

 

“There are honorable knights,” she defended passionately. “Men that don't break their oaths so easily.”

 

“Men unlike myself,” he hotly supplied for her. She shrugged. “You don't know me, wench. There are no men like me, only me.”

 

“I know you killed the king that you were sworn to protect. I know you slept with your sister and she had your bastards. What else is there to know?”

 

“You were very young when Aerys was in power,” his hands shook in anger. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

 

“I know he was cruel,” Brienne shifted on the ground. “No one is denying that, but you swore to protect him.”

 

He laughed bitterly, “Yes I did. I was a child foolishly taking an oath I didn't understand and had no business taking in the first place.” _And I wanted to be with Cersei so much I would have done anything_ , he added to himself. He got up from the ground and loomed over her. “Aerys was more than cruel. He was evil and I don't regret killing him.”

 

She blinked up at him then got off the ground as well, eye to eye. “You don't deserve the title of knight.” Her voice held contempt.

 

“A title you want _desperately_ ,” he smirked. “It's not my fault the Gods gave you a cunt and not a cock. Hate them for that, not me.”

 

“Hate takes passion,” she bit out. “I don't hate you, Kingslayer. _You_ don't matter to me at all. I'm charged with getting you to King's Landing safely and returning the Stark girls back to their mother. That's what I care about.” She spun on her heel, ready to leave him alone with his rage.

 

“Do you know what wildfire is, wench?” he ground out. He wasn't ready for her to get the last word. He wanted her to know exactly who he was. Her declaring he meant nothing to her snapped something inside of him, it felt like he was gutted.

 

She looked over her shoulder, “Yes.”

 

Jaime came to where she stood and leaned in close. “King Aerys was obsessed with it, would have bathed in it, if he dared,” her azure eyes danced in the fire light. “He loved watching people burn. Enjoyed the way their skin would melt off. At first it was only his enemies,” his smile was cold, “but soon he saw enemies everywhere.” He got lost in the memories, in the terror, “Robert was turning out to be a bigger threat than he thought. No mere outlaw.  Lord  Chelsted , his hand at the time found out what was going on and tried to stop Aerys from continuing along his mad course, but Aerys had him killed and named the pyromancer Rossart, the man who had burned Rickard Stark alive, his Hand,” Brienne's breath was coming quicker and he watched the horror fill her eyes. “He put cashes of wildfire all over the city. Under the sept, the town square, under homes. Aerys said if the traitors wanted his city they can rule over charred bones and ash. My father brought his forces to the gate,” another bitter laugh escaped. “He had already switched loyalties, you see. My father would never back a losing side. But Pycelle, the stupid cunt, advised Aerys that the Lannisters were friends of the crown. The Lannister forces sacked the city once they were let in the gates. Aerys called for my father's head,” Jaime swallowed, “Would you have killed your father?” Brienne's looked away. “Come wench,” he asked honestly. “What would you have done?”

 

Her body tensed. She swallowed several times and her teeth scraped at the flesh of her full bottom lip. Finally she returned her sapphire eyes to his emerald ones, “I don't know.”

 

He let out the breath he had been holding in. “I killed the pyromancer first. Then walked into the throne room and killed Aerys. He screamed ' _ burn them all _ ' until his dying day.”

 

“Why didn't you tell anyone?” her voice shook. “Why doesn't anyone know what happened? The real reason you killed the king?”

 

“I swore to keep my king's secrets,” his self-hatred burned his stomach. “Plus do you really think the honorable Ned Stark gave a damn about what I had to say? He had already judged me guilty.” He took another step closer to her, her eyes darted back and forth. “What right does the wolf have to judge the lion?” he whispered against her ear. He felt her tremble- in fear or lust at having his body so close he couldn't be sure. Probably a little of both. At least he hoped he wasn't the only one effected by being so intimate. “I don't regret killing him,” he said again, softer.

 

She licked her lips, he watched the action closely. “I...” she shook her head at a lost for what to say.

 

Really though, what could she say? He just laid his deepest secret at her feet again. It was her move now.

 

<<>><<>>

 

He woke up the next morning alone. He looked around to see if the horses were still where they left them. Everything was exactly the same except Brienne was no where to be found. He got up quickly, his heart dropping a little. She couldn't have left him, but where was she? Had his confession been too much for her? Maybe it was easier to take the first time because he was half dead with fever. Maybe...

 

His thoughts stopped when Brienne appeared carrying a towel in one hand. Her hair was wet, water dripping onto her boiled leather jerkin and her skin was slightly pink from scrubbing. He released a long breath. She paused and stared at him. 

 

“Thought maybe you decided I wasn't worth the trouble wench,” he tried to cover his relief with a jape. 

 

Her hands clenched the towel over and over. Her unease was pouring out of her. The pinkness of her cheeks got darker. “I have an oath to keep.”

 

“An oath,” he repeated a little deflated. Her eyes wouldn't quite meet his and she nodded. He bent down to gather the items from the ground so she didn't see how disappointed he was. “Fine, wench, we better get going then. We're almost to King's Landing then you'll be free of me.”

 

“Brienne,” she told him softly. It was barely a whisper. “My name is Brienne, Ser Jaime.”

 

He lifted his head at his name on her lips. He wanted to see her eyes right then. He wanted to rush over to her and hold her tightly to him. He wanted to bury his face in the curve of her neck. But she wasn't even looking in his direction any longer. Her back was to him and she was tending to the horses.

 

<<>><<>>

 

They reached King's Landing by mid day. Jaime sucked in a breath, remembering the way it looked as Daenerys burned the streets with her dragon. The image of that would never leave him, the screams of innocent people could never be unheard and the fact that it could still happen sent a violent shiver down his spine. Brienne looked over the city as they rode through the narrow alleys, her nose wrinkling a little at the smell. He almost chuckled. King's Landing was probably completely different from what she was used to. 

 

The truth was this place was a nest of vipers. It was built on fire and blood and stayed going on lies and backstabbing. Not a place for good people. It corrupted the ones that it could and destroyed the ones it couldn't. If he was being honest with himself, which he rarely was, he would admit he hated it. Court and false courtesies made him anxious. He was always better fighting with a sword than he was with words. He knew Brienne was the same. 

 

He slid from his horse once they got closer to the castle and Brienne did the same. Jaime took the reins from her and handed them over to the stable boy. The young child bowed deeply then led the mounts into the stalls. 

 

“Ready,” he asked.

 

She straightened her back and nodded. The walk to the Red Keep was mostly done in silence. She was more interested in taking in the surroundings than talking to him and it gave him a chance to think about what he was going to do once he was face to face with his family. The oddness of not knowing how to react to Cersei was unusual. He couldn't deny there was a part of him that was excited by it. His lust for her body was just a part of him. It had been there since the beginning of time. Jaime and Cersei. Cersei and Jaime. Two halves of one soul. 

 

Only they weren't. 

 

He wasn't just her twin. Her lover. The father of her children. He was also a knight. A kingslayer and a king maker. He was the man that knighted Brienne and fought the wights while Cersei ruled over King's Landing and waited to bring death on the people...  _ None of that has happened, _ a voice whispered in his head.  _ It might never happen. Just like you didn't lose your hand. Maybe Cersei will be different as well. _

 

Maybe... but he didn't believe it. Cersei was who she was. She had wanted to be queen since she was a child. She always believed it was her destiny to sit on the Iron Throne and look down on the people. Maybe she would take a different path to get there, but the result would be the same. 

 

The Red Keep was large and formidable. The Lannister soldiers guarding the front steps looked shocked by his appearance and the company he had with him, until their training kicked in and they became impassive again. He turned to face Brienne to see if she noticed the looks of the men in Lannister armor. Her face was tight and hard. She saw and she recognized what they didn't say. Jaime curled his fingers into his palm to stop himself from reaching out to her.

 

Once they entered the throne room, the tension in Jaime's shoulders tightened further. Joffrey sat on that fucking monstrosity and grinned mockingly at him. “Uncle,” he exclaimed. “How good to see you.” His gaze turned to Brienne and a sneer replaced the grin. “I see you brought along a pet.” His pale eyes traveled the length of her tall form. “And what a truly heinous beast she is...”

 

His companion straightened her spine and tilted her chin up, but said nothing. Cersei perfect cupid's bow lips parted and she smiled passively at her son, tapping his fingers. “Now,” she cooed at him. “Let's be nice to her. She was oh so kind to bring your uncle back to us.” Her attention turned to him. “Jaime, dear brother,” his cock hardened a little, he couldn't help it. “I'm so relieved you are back and in good health. I'm sure you'll be wanting to get cleaned up and maybe sleep a little in your own bed.” The unspoken words of ' _ I'll join you soon _ ,' past between them. “And your companion, Lady...”

 

“Brienne,” she bowed. “Your Grace.”

 

Joffrey laughed harshly. “Did you just  _ bow _ ?”

 

“I'm sorry, your Grace,” while her face showed no anger at the child king's mocking, her voice went icy cold, “I never did master the curtsy.” 

 

“Not surprising,” his son said, leaning forward. “A cow can't be taught to be proper.”

 

Brienne opened her mouth and he stepped half in front of her, “Lady Brienne,” Jaime responded before it could get out of hand, “Will be staying here as my guest.”

 

Cersei's eyes flashed for a moment, before settling down to a simmer. He knew he would be questioned later. He knew he would be punished by her for ruining their son's fun. “Of course.” She said never taking her eyes off of his. “I'll have a room made up for her in the Maidenvault.”

 

“Thank you, your Grace,” Brienne bowed her head again, almost in defiance. Jaime closed his eyes. “I am most appreciative for your kindness.” 

 

Knowing her tones so well, Jaime heard the slight sarcasm in the words and knew that he needed to get her out of there and fast. He bowed to his sister and son, “I'm going to show Lady Brienne around.”

 

He could feel the twin glares on him. One from Cersei sitting above him and the other from Brienne standing next to him. He pointedly didn't look at either as he led the younger woman from the Throne room. His life just got a whole lot more complicated.

 

<<>><<>>

 

 


	5. The Lannisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The North pulled the brightness from her cheeks, replacing it with the paleness of the moon. She was impressive and strong in both settings, but the sun- she was made for the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this chapter actually took me longer than any other in the story. I'm really playing with the timeline here. Also combining the books as well as the show. I hope you don't mind the changes... Thank you again for reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter... Oh and Tywin is not easy for me to write. I hope I did him justice.
> 
> <<>><<>>

<<>><<>>

Brienne didn't say anything when they left the throne room and started walking along the walkways nearest to the ocean. She didn't have to. He knew what she was thinking. He knew because he knew her. She stopped and looked out over the water below them. The waves crashed violently against the jagged rocks, white caps spraying upwards toward them. The seas here were not nearly as beautiful as the ones that surrounded her island in the Stormlands. 

Jaime tried to think of something to break silence, but all he could come up with to say was, “ _Sorry my son is such an ass._ ” Which wasn't something he could say for multiple reasons. One being that he was in the Kingsguard and was supposed to be celibate. Another was that Joffrey was supposed to be of Robert's seed. Plus it didn't change anything. Joffrey was a little shit. Everyone knew that and Brienne could handle little shits just fine on her own. 

She closed her eyes, tipping her face up toward the sun. This was why he hated being in the North with her. She was made for the sun. The golden rays hit her cheeks, bringing forth the dots of caramel that were speckled all over her body. He remembered quite vividly that those freckles didn't stop on her face but reached the tops of her breast as well. The North pulled the brightness from her cheeks, replacing it with the paleness of the moon. She was impressive and strong in both settings, but the sun- she was made for the sun. Her lips were parted, just a little, as if caught between a sigh and a breath. 

“Tell me about Tarth,” he said, losing himself in her presence.

She looked at him, a tiny smile playing around the edges of her mouth. “It's beautiful. The waters are the deepest blue and are almost never too cold to swim in or too rough. There are bluffs covered in green and there are waterfalls and fields of wildflowers. It was a great place to grow up.”

“You miss it,” it wasn't a question. He could see the answer in the way she spoke about her island. She gave a tiny nod anyway. “Why did you leave?”

“I wanted to fight for Renly,” she shrugged. “I wanted to fight for a noble I believed in.”

“Do not say that too loud,” he looked around him. The water was drowning out most of their words but it was never really safe to talk freely in King's Landing. Varys' birds and other spies crawled everywhere, listening and gathering information. “The Red Keep has eyes and ears all over and in the walls.”

She looked uncomfortable with the thought. He was glad. Uncomfortable meant cautious and being cautious could keep ones head attached to ones neck. Brienne rolled her lips together and she gave a short nod. He turned his gaze to the ocean one more time. He knew he needed to make an appearance in the Tower of the Hand to see his father. He was actually shocked no one had come to drag him up there already. 

“Come wench,” he smiled at her. “I'll show you to your room.”

“Brienne,” she pushed past him. Her shoulder knocking into his as she did.

He grinned even larger, teasing her, “ _Lady_ Brienne.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, glaring, “I'm not a lady.”

Jaime chuckled to himself and followed her back to the castle entrance. 

<<>><<>>

He knew she was there before he opened the door to his bedchamber in the White Sword Tower. Cersei was sitting on his bed, her back propped up by a stack of pillows, her ample chest pushed out and a glass of wine in her hand. He took a deep breath, shutting the door behind him, leaning on the solid wood.

Cersei looked at him over the rim of her glass, her green eyes, that were the same color as his, turned darker. Taking a sip of the deep red liquid, she licked the remnant off her lips slowly. Her pink tongue rolling against the perfect shape of her bottom lip before sliding back into her mouth. Jaime tried and failed to stop the blood rushing through his veins. She knew what she was doing. She'd had years to master the art of making his body sing with need. She was playing him like a professional now.

“Cersei,” he pushed off the door, coming to stand by the bed. “You shouldn't be here.”

“I think here is exactly where I should be, dear brother,” her gaze darted to his obvious erection. “I haven't welcomed you back properly. You were gone with that...” she paused, thinking of the appropriate word for Brienne. “Very interesting _woman_ for such a long time.”

“She got me here safely,” Jaime said as she stood in front of him. “She brought me back to our family.”

Cersei placed her goblet on the table next to the bed, “Yes.” She turned back to him, running her fingernail down his front. “She did. How kind of her.” The finger traveled further down, stopping at the strings of his pants. “You really shouldn't have gotten in the way of Joffrey, dear brother. He doesn't like his play toys taken from him.”

“Brienne isn't a toy for your son, sweet sister,” his voice was breathless, but he was trying to fight the desire to fall into the bed with her and fuck Brienne from both their thoughts. “From what I hear, he has quite a few toys in this castle to amuse himself with.”

Her green eyes got angry, “He is the king, Jaime. He can do what he pleases.”

“He can,” Jaime admitted. “But is that wise?” His thoughts turn to Joffrey clenching his throat as blood and bile spewed from his mouth. The way his eyes bulged and the veins popped. He pushed the unpleasant image from his brain. 

“Are you threatening our son,” she hissed, her earlier seduction a thing of the past. 

Jaime couldn't tell if he was relieved that she was turning to ice in front of him or if he was disappointed. It was both he realized. He probably wouldn't have been strong enough to stop himself from sinking his hard cock in her always welcoming cunt. He wasn't a strong man it seemed.

“No,” he placed his hands on her cheeks. The skin was as silky as ever. “I would never harm him,” _but I might not save him either_ , he added. “But we know better than anyone that there are people who would love nothing more than to kill the boy king.”

She scoffed, “Only a fool would kill the king.”

“I killed a king, sweet sister,” he reminded her. “Are you calling me a fool?”

She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Jaime opened it just enough to see around the edge. A young page looked up at him with wide chocolate brown eyes, “Pardon me, Ser,” the young man said with a tremble in his voice. “My Lord Tywin requests your presence in his solar.”

“Tell him I will be there as soon as I change,” Jaime replied, waiting for the boy to bow and leave before closing the door and turning to Cersei. She had her glass back in her hand no longer sipping from the contents but taking large gulps. “How many glasses have you had sweet sister?”

Her smile could cut a man, “Not nearly enough. Father wants me to marry again.” She filled up her goblet again. “Wilas Tyrell.” She tipped her glass in his direction. “I wonder what he'll demand of you, dear brother.” She softened her voice but it didn't take away the anger, “You are his favorite.”

“Cersei,” he started. 

“Better not keep him waiting,” she swept past him, her light lavender perfume filling his nostrils. “You know how much he hates to be kept waiting.”

She left him standing there in the room. Jaime sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.

<<>><<>>

Tywin Lannister was a hard man. Both in personality and physicality. He held himself as the final authority on whatever was going on. His father didn't stand for being questioned and if someone actually dared to try, it would often end badly for the other person. Jaime walked into the solar in full kingsguard armor. His white cloak a layer between him and the elder Lannister. However even though he was wearing it, he knew Tywin could easily cut him down. 

He stood just within the doorway, waiting for his father to beckon him closer. It was a game. Tywin knew he was there, but by not acknowledging his son, he was establishing dominance. He didn't have to. Both men knew who held the power. It was a given. Jaime wanted to fidget, shift his weight from one foot to the other, clutch and release the hilt of his sword... he forced his body to remain still. Showing any signs of discomfort would show weakness and weakness was something his father would not tolerate. From anyone, but especially his children.

After what felt like eternity, Tywin placed his quill in the pot of ink and moved the paper he was writing on into the folder next to him. He turned steely eyes on his son and motioned for him to sit. It was only then that Jaime moved more fully into the room and took the seat across from him. His father glanced over his body in the armor, his displeasure at seeing the white cloak visible. 

“Good to have you back son,” his voice wasn't even remotely warm, but Jaime believed the words anyway. “How did you escape?”

“I didn't,” he crossed his right leg over his left, “Lady Catelyn released me into the care of Lady Brienne. She got me back to King's Landing.”

“The Stark widow did this out of the kindness of her heart?” If his father laughed, he would have there. His eyes held no mirth, but he obviously found this news amusing. “How _honorable_ of her.”

“She wants her daughters back,” Jaime wondered what was going through his father's mind. He could never really tell. Tywin was always playing the game five moves ahead of everyone else. “That's why she let me go.”

Tywin leaned back, his expression completely blank, “Sansa is betrothed to your brother. She will be a Lannister in a fortnight. She isn't going anywhere.” 

“What of Arya?” He knew how Ayra turned out in the other future, but he didn't know if this would be the same. His brother was already married to Sansa when he returned home previously, so that was different. _How much more has already changed_? 

Tywin gave a careless shrug. “She is on her way to wed Ramsay Bolton.” 

_Liar_ , he thought. “Ramsay Snow you mean? Isn't he a bastard?”

“Lord Bolton has legitimized the boy. He has even given him the Winterfell castle.” A rare smile graced his father's face. It actually made him look even more intimidating. “Besides even if we could release the Stark girls, there is no one and no where for them to go.”

Jaime's blood turned to ice. _The Red Wedding..._ how could he have forgotten about that? He tried to swallow the raising nausea. “They are in the Riverlands.”

“No they aren't,” Tywin leaned forward again, steepling his fingers together under his chin. “Robb Stark made some very poor decisions. The brash young wolf won the war on the field and lost it in the bedchamber. The Northern forces are no longer a problem.”

“The Starks are dead,” he knew the answer. It wasn't a question. It was more just him needing to say the words out loud. _Gods how am I going to tell Brienne_? 

“They are,” he father confirmed. “Now we can focus on the other threats to our power.” He looked over the Kingsguard armor again. “I want you to resign from the Kingsguard.”

And here was the real reason he was summoned. “A member of the Kingsguard serves for life.”

“Not anymore,” Tywin narrowed his eyes. “Your sweet twin made a precedent by removing Ser Barristan Selmy from being Lord Commander. You can walk away.”

The words were said as if Tywin actually cared whether or not he wanted to quit the Kingsguard, the meaning though was different. This was an order. This was him telling his son what he was going to do. Jaime stared at his only parent and wondered if he should. Last time he was amendment about staying in King's Landing and protecting his children. One had been a huge mistake and the other he found himself incapable of doing. 

“A member of the Kingsguard serves for life,” he repeated sounding a little more unsure.

Tywin didn't say anything for a beat, but anger radiated off of him. Finally he told Jaime curtly, “We shall see.”

<<>><<>>

On his way back to the White Sword Tower, Jaime ran into Loras Tyrell. The younger man was livid and ready for a fight. Jaime was tired and not in the mood.

“You brought that _woman_ here?” His brown eyes were blazing in his anger. “She killed Renly in cold blood.”

“She didn't,” he really wasn't in the correct mind set for this.

“I saw her in his tent,” he seethed. The palm of his right hand kept rubbing at the metal of his sword handle. “His blood was on her hands. Stupid cow was probably plotting his death from the minute she was given that cloak and made a member of the Rainbow guard. You know Renly told me, he thought she was ridiculous. He knew she had a crush on him and also knew she would die for him, but he was wrong about that last part. She was a traitor. I want her arrested for murder.”

“You want her arrested for killing a false king that was trying to take the throne from the rightful one,” he wanted to laugh, he really did. “If she did kill him, King Joffrey would see her as hero, not a traitor.” He almost walked past the arrogant knight but stopped, “She is one of the most loyal people have I met. You should talk to her. Listen to her story and judge for yourself if you think she could have killed her king in cold blood.”

With that final thought he walked around the knight and headed down the stairs.

<<>><<>>

By the time Jaime made it back to his chamber, all he wanted was a warm bath and to sleep. His body was worn out and his mind was filled with worry. He knew he couldn't relax though. He had to tell Brienne about Lady Catelyn and he needed to decide what he was going to do next. The deaths of the Starks was done. He couldn't undo that, but maybe he could do something else. 

He paced the length of his floor. Tyrion would know what to do or at least he would be better at forming a plan. His younger sibling always had a way of seeing a solution in the middle of a shit covered problem. Plus he wanted to see the little imp. The last moments they had together were some of the most heart breaking to him. Both knew it was the end. Tyrion had every right to want to see Cersei burn in hell for all she had done, but he was willing to let her live because of him. 

In truth, Tyrion was the best Lannister of them all. And Cersei had never appreciated him. Had tried to kill him or have him killed more times than either of them probably realized. Somehow though, his little brother found it in him to give a shit about her. Their family really was fucked up. 

He took off his armor, leaving on only a cream colored tunic and a pair of boiled leather breeches. He poured a small amount of wine into his cup, drinking it quickly. He needed to take a moment before he went to see his brother or Brienne. The reunions with his family members have been taxing to say the least and then the conversation with Loras...

Jaime filled the glass up again, walking to the window and looked out at the sun setting over the water. The pinks and oranges and dark blues reflected brokenly on the waves. He took another deep drink from the glass. He was stalling, but he wasn't sorry for it. The discussion he had to have with Brienne would break her heart and the one with Tyrion could cause more harm than good. 

Fuck! He placed the glass down on the table none too gently and grabbed a jerkin from one of his chairs. He buttoned it quickly and headed toward the door. He really wasn't a thinker. He needed to deal with everything head on. Starting with Brienne.

The walk to her chambers took forever and didn't take nearly long enough. His stomach was tied into a knot when he finally knocked on her door. It took a minute before she opened it, letting him inside. Once she turned to face him, he knew he wouldn't have to tell her anything. Her face was red. Her eyes swollen. Her lips were bloody from where she had pulled at them with her teeth. His heart sank like a rock into the sea. 

“Brienne,” he didn't know what to do. He wanted to hold her but he wasn't sure she would let him. He held himself back until she made the first move.

“They killed her,” her voice was raw with emotion. “Lady Catelyn is dead.” Her shoulders shook from her sobs and he walked over to her, unwilling to let her feel this anguish alone. 

Jaime wrapped his arms around her large body, letting her cry her pain into his shoulder. “I know,” he whispered helplessly. “I know.”

They stood there in her bedchamber wrapped together as she broke down in his arms. He hated seeing her like this, but selfishly he thanked the Gods, because she was where she belonged. In his embrace. He really wasn't a good man.

<<>><<>>


	6. A Step Forward, Two Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was like the Gods made sure to give her those eyes, as a window, as a door that beckoned the right person to just take another glance because there was something more. At one time he was that person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting closer to Sunday and honestly my anger at the Cersei/Jaime "love/addiction storyline" is coming through a bit. LOL. I have a lot of feelings. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Thank you for reading, leaving kudos and commenting. It truly brightens my day and makes me smile.

<<>><<>>

Brienne cried with her whole body. She felt the pain from her head down to her toes. The sadness made her look like what she truly was, an innocent young woman. This was something people forgot because she wasn't a typical looking female. She was tall, large and homely, not small, delicate and comely. It was when someone took the time to see past the surface that they could really get to her beauty. 

And she was beautiful. It was like the Gods made sure to give her those eyes, as a window, as a door that beckoned the right person to just take another glance because there was something more. At one time he was that person. He was the one that saw beyond the outer appearance to the woman underneath. Then he did something so foolish and cruel that the Gods made it a link in his chain of sins.

Her breathing was starting to even out and she sobs turned to hiccups. Brienne pushed away from him, keeping her head down, most likely from embarrassment. He didn't want her to feel ashamed for needing him. He wanted to be the one she turned to in times of crisis. He wanted her to be that for him as well. One of the many things that was different between them was they were equals and met as friends each bringing something real to the other. Cersei and he weren't like that. She always seemed to have the upper hand in their relationship. And he just let her because he thought that's what love was. 

“I'm sorry,” she said to the floor, her ears red. “I shouldn't have... I...” She backed away. Her arms swinging at her sides. “Lady Catelyn was a honorable woman. She didn't deserve to die like that.”

“How did you find out?”

Her tear swollen eyes met his, “I overheard King Joffrey laughing about it while I was walking around.” Her expression darkened with resentment. “He sounded so pleased. The way he described it...” She straightened to her full height. “It was during dinner. Guest rights...”

“Don't mean anything to the Freys,” he remembered. “They were betrayed by Robb. He broke a promise and wed another.”

“You sound like you agree with what they did,” her tone accusatory. 

“I don't,” he shrugged. “What happened to the Starks was not right by the code of honor you hold so dear, but in war,” he paused. “In war honor doesn't always matter to people. The Frey's felt slighted and that their station was being put in jeopardy. One of Walder's daughter was to marry the King in the North, he married another instead.” Jaime tried to put into words everything he knew without making it seem like he _knew_ too much. “When you play the game of thrones, you either win or die.” His sister told him that, his father lived that way, the Lannisters understood the game.

Brienne shook her head as if to deny the truth. She looked frustrated by the simplistic way he described what happened to the woman she swore herself. She wanted the world to be black and white, good and evil, right and wrong. It would be so much fucking easier if it was, but life was messy. It wasn't as clear as white Knight slaying the dragon to save the princess. If it was, it would make his fucking life simple and he wouldn't have fucked up so much the Gods sent him back to fix it. She turned her back on him wiping at the tracks of tears on her face. 

“I didn't know you were that close with Lady Catelyn,” he sat on the chair by the writing table in her room.

“I wasn't,” she admitted. “But I pledged myself to protect her and I failed her. I promised I would return her children to her and I failed her. Oh Gods, Sansa and Arya...” She turned back to him, her face white. “Have they been told? Where are they? I need to get them out of here.”

He stopped himself from displaying too much, “Sansa is here in the capital. She is to wed my brother.” Brienne's face showed quite clearly how she felt about that. Jaime got annoyed at the look. “Tyrion will treat Sansa with respect. He is better than most of us Lannisters.” He shifted uncomfortably and then said, “Arya is on her way back to Winterfell.” He prayed by not telling her the rest he wasn't making a mistake, but he was almost certain the young woman his father sent north was _not_ Arya at all.

“She's just a child,” she said earnestly. “Sansa can't wed your brother.” 

“Women marry younger than four and ten all the time,” he reminded her. “She was old enough to be promised to the king. She's old enough to wed my dear brother.”

“Yes, but you would have her marry into the family that killed her own in such a brutal fashion?”

“ _I_ would not have her do anything of the sort. It's the Freys and the Boltons that murdered her brother and her mother,” he clarified, but even he felt sick at the half truth. While the blood in definitely on the hands of those northern houses, he knew his father was the mastermind. “But she _is_ going to marry my brother in a fortnight and then King Joffrey will wed Margaery Tyrell a moon turn after that. This is how it works, wench.”

Her sapphire eyes plead with him, “Not if you help me stop it. Ser Jaime, help me complete my oath to Lady Catelyn. Help me get her daughter out of this place and somewhere safe.”

Jaime was a weak man. Those eyes and his name on her lips were enough to make him agree to anything now. And had he been smarter in his other life he would have listened to this part of him that said, she's right.

“Where would be safe?”

Brienne looked at a loss and he felt the same.

“I don't know.” She admitted, “But I know here isn't.”

Silently, he agreed.

<<>><<>>

Tyrion was well into his cups when Jaime knocked on his chamber door. The dwarf's mismatched eyes were bloodshot and blurry. His face was scarred from the battle of the Blackwater and half his nose was missing. It was a horrible sight to see, but it was still Tyrion and his heart felt good seeing his brother again.

“Dear brother,” the imp exclaimed with drunken, sarcastic joy. He staggered over to the pitcher and started trying to steady himself enough to pour a glass for Jaime. “Come to congratulate me on my upcoming nuptials?”

Jaime smiled grimly at him. “Are we celebrating?”

“Why wouldn't we?” his brother swayed spilling more wine on the floor than what made it into the cup. He handed over the glass, sloshing some more of the liquid over his hand. “I'm to be wed to the beautiful Sansa Stark. Your imp of a brother and the young woman that was cast out by the king for being a traitor. Dreams really do come true.” He placed his finger to his lips, “I'm not the only Lannister betrothed. Cersei is to wed again as well. Our family is spreading the happiness.”

“I know that Cersei is to wed Wilas Tyrell.” Jaime took a sip of the wine for something to do. “She told me how father has arranged the marriage for her.”

“Ah, yes,” Tyrion nodded, “She came to see you alone in your bedchamber after you got back with that peculiar woman.” A twisted smile curled his sibling's lips, “Lady Brienne, is it?” Jaime nodded. “She got the whole castle whispering. Especially after you stopped the King from being his usual horrible self. Some are calling her your whore. If only they knew the truth about who really warms your bed.”

“The truth is she's too good for me and doesn't deserve to be treated like nothing but a place for me to rest my cock in,” he bit out. If seemed like in every world and in every life, Brienne would be called the Kingslayer's whore.

Something dark must have been in his expression because Tyrion sobered up quickly. “Forgive me brother,” he sighed, climbing up onto a chair. “I'm afraid I have grown bitter in your absence. Things have not gone so well for me and I'm being an intolerable ass. I'm most happy that Lady Brienne got you back here safely.”

“What happened to you, dear brother?”

“They made me fight without my big brother to protect me,” his words that were meant to be sarcastic, his fallback, were instead empty. “I saved the city, but no one seems to think I did much. Father is the true hero. Ask him. He will tell you himself. You should also ask him where our sweet sister put me to heal. It was really quite kind of her.”

“What do you mean,” Jaime tried to recall what Cersei had done, but all he could remember were the moments that came next. Joffrey's death, Cersei and him fucking next to the corpse of their son (and if that didn't show just how disturbing their relationship had become he really didn't know what did) and of course Tyrion's mock trial. 

“Oh, Cersei made sure I was left alone to get the proper rest needed to heal from such grievous wounds as these,” It was word play. Tyrion loved to say one thing and mean another, but Jaime understood. He understood the workings of their family. 

“Where,” he wasn't sure he wanted to know, but this was why he was brought back, to face who he was and who they were.

“The cellar of course,” he told him with false cheer, “She wanted me to get better in solitude, like a mushroom. Kept in the dark and fed shit.”

“Tyrion,” he didn't know what to say. It was ridiculous and so perfectly in tune with what he knew about his family. They won the war seemingly, but it didn't feel like it.

His brother waved him off, done with the topic, “Tell me about this lady warrior that seems to be the talk of this retched place.”

“Lady Brienne was given the wonderful task of returning me to my family,” he wasn't sure what he wanted to reveal about the woman he brought back with him. It was almost a certain that his brother would remember very little of the conversation on the morrow, but still... “She's a brilliant fighter and loyal almost to a fault. She pledged her service to Lady Catelyn and promised to return her daughters back to her.”

“You sound like you admire her, Jaime,” his eyes narrowed. “I'm starting to see why the common folk think she might be more than just a guest to you.”

“She isn't,” he was quick to say. “She is...” he trailed off because he didn't know what she was. A protector? Yes. A lover? Yes but only he knew that. A friend? Yes, she was his closest friend. “She is someone I trust.”

“Well that is something,” the imp played with the stem of his goblet. “Lady Catelyn met an unfortunate demise I'm afraid.”

“Father made me aware of that fact,” he acknowledged. “He also said that he arranged for Arya to be sent to wed Roose Bolton's bastard in Winterfell.”

“Not a bastard any longer,” Tyrion said. “He was legitimized. Made a Bolton in name.”

“Was it really her? The Stark girl?”

His brother paused. He pursed his lips together then shook his head, “No. I believe the Boltons know this as well. Arya hasn't been seen since her father's beheading at the orders of our precious king.”

“So who...”

“A northern girl,” Tyrion shrugged, taking a slow sip of wine. “I fear, from everything I have heard of Ramsay, the fate of the girl is not going to be a pleasant one. The rumor is he takes great joy in hurting others. Got quite a reputation during the battles for taking prisoners and finding new ways to torture them. I can't imagine he will treat his wife with any amount of kindness.”

“Does father know this?”

“I believe the better question, dear brother,” he sat up a little straighter. “Is does father care? And I think we both know the answer to that.”

_Yes, we do. I hate the bitter taste of truth._

<<>><<>>

Over the next several days, he met with Tyrion more and more to try and come up with a plan that would solve all his problems. Tyrion was skeptical about being able to pull anything over their father, but he was not opposed to trying, especially if it meant he wouldn't wed a child bride. During that time Jaime found out about his brother's lover and the woman that was used as a cover. He learned of how his father had the poor girl beaten and thrown out of the city naked. And as he was learning all this he thought about another girl Tyrion had loved. Jaime wrestled with the knowledge of the role he played in that and how to tell his younger brother that the young girl that he wed all those years ago wasn't a whore at all, but was really just who she said she was. 

Days turned into a week and they were no closer to a solution. Jaime was getting frustrated and worried. Brienne also made her displeasure known. She wanted out of King's Landing. Joffrey had made tormenting her a game, finding ways to embarrass her at meals and in court. He tried to shield her as much as possible, but his hands were tied being Lord Commander. He couldn't defy the king in such an obvious fashion. So he was helpless and he hated being powerless.

Brienne would vent to him during their practice fights by the sea. Her focus was always on getting Sansa out of court.

_“Have you figured out where to take her,” he'd ask as he swung his sword in her direction._

_“We could go to Tarth,” she danced around his charge coming up behind him, ready to strike, he barely recovered enough to block the blow. “My father could help us. Maybe we could board a ship for Essos. Hide in the free cities until we make a better plan.”_

_“Could work,” Jaime swung the sword faster in her direction, forcing her back and grinning as she met every one of his attacks. “But we would have to leave during the night and somehow, get to your island,” he swept her legs out from under her. She fell hard onto the sand, rolling to the side before he could make her yield. “A smuggler maybe.”_

_“What about Tyrion's friend,” she advanced, her fist connecting with the soft part of his side. He let out a laugh. That was going to bruise. “Bronn might know someone.”_

_“That's a possibility for sure,” he grinned, seeing an opening as she tried faked left and he caught her around the middle, this time falling with her to the ground. Jaime managed to disarm her. Once he had the blade far enough away from her reaching hand, he straddled her waist, placing the edge of his knife against her throat. “Yield.”_

_Brienne grinned up at him, “Never.” Then she twisted her body, until his was under hers. His blood pumped hard as she settled more firmly on top of him, producing a dagger and held that to the edge of his neck. “You yield.”_

_Had they been in a different place in their relationship, he would have claimed her right there in the sand and the sun._

It was also during these days that he found himself more distant from Cersei then ever before in his life. She would glare at him at meals, watching him as he took his place at Joffrey's side. Her green gaze also watched Brienne closely. And that made him very uneasy. His sweet sister had a deadly glint in her expression for his lady knight as well as Joffrey's bride to be. 

Gathering information was another trait he usually left to his brother, but while keeping his ears open he learned more about his sweet twin's activities. Namely about her relationships with other members of the kingsguard and their dear cousin. That news was whispered into his ear by the spider himself. Of course it wasn't told to him out right. No the spider was too smart for that. It was done through stages. A comment here:

_Ser Jaime, how wonderful to see you in the keep again. I'm sure you know how pleased your sister, our beautiful Queen regent has been with the other members of the guard. Osmund Kettleblack has taken over quite well in your absence, protecting her in the way you would, I would say, but I'm sure your sweet sister will be much more comforted by having you back at her side._

A look directed at cousin Lancel. But it all came to a head when he had the unfortunate pleasure of walking in on Cersei with Osmund himself. His sister was pushed up against the wall her shapely legs wrapped tightly around his middle, her bodice ripped and open. Osmund's head nestled between her breasts, his head going back and forth between her nipples and his hips snapping roughly into hers. Her eyes opened at the sound of the door, they got wide seeing him standing there. 

Jaime felt sick, but he couldn't look away. Cersei pushed against the man who had his cock buried in her, “Get off,” she hissed.

 _He is_ , Jaime thought darkly, then turned and walked out. 

<<>><<>>

“I'm sorry, Ser Jaime,” Brienne said. They were at their spot on the beach. Swords at their sides. They haven't started sparring yet. “I know you feel strongly about your sister.”

“Strongly,” he chuckled, the sound wasn't his normal one, it was edged in venom. “I love her. I have always loved her.” His companion looked troubled. Her big, horsey teeth working against the skin of her bottom lip. “You have something you want to say, wench?”

Her astonishing blue eyes met his, “It's just...” she stopped, obviously trying to think of how to put her thoughts into words. “What you two had was... was it love?”

Jaime glared at her. “You should really be careful here wench.”

“You asked,” her mouth tightened. “You wanted to know what I was thinking.”

“Do you,” he walked closer to her, “think you know something about love? Have you ever been in love, Brienne? Your crush on Renly was nothing compared to what I felt for Cersei. Renly only looked at you as a shield. Loras told me exactly what he thought of you.”

“Stop it,” her eyes got watery. 

_Gods stop it, you fucking fool_ , but he couldn't. He was hurting and he wanted to hurt in return. “I don't blame you for loving him. Even if there was no chance in the seven bloody hells he would love you back. You can't choose the ones you love.”

“Bullshit,” she glared at him. “That's too easy. You make choices every day. You just made stupid ones.”

They were toe to toe now. “You think it's easy loving someone like Cersei?” His eyes bore into hers. “It was never easy. But loving someone like Renly, I can see where that was very easy indeed. I bet you fell all over yourself when you got to touch him. Did you touch yourself at night thinking about running your hands though his hair? Or did you blush thinking about what was under his tunic or in his pants? You could ask Loras. I'm sure he could give you all the detai-”

She punched him hard. His head snapped back and he tasted the copper of his blood in the back of his throat. Jaime covered his nose, as the blood flowed from it. By the time he looked up again, Brienne was walking away from him.

<<>><<>>


	7. The Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took his breath away in the same fashion it had the first time he saw it. The golden hilt with lions roaring and rubies glinting at him. He tested the weight and balance. It was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't going to post today. I feel like people might be getting overwhelmed by this story, but I refuse to watch the last episode so... here it is. I hope you like it. Thank you to all that have read, commented and left kudos. You all make my little broken heart not hurt as bad

<<>><<>>

Jaime listened to his brother laugh for too long after he told him, in error it seemed, what had happened on the beach. _It really shouldn't amuse the imp so much that the lady warrior had knocked the shit out of me_ , he thought with a scowl. “Are you quite done?” he pulled the cloth from his nose, the blood had finally stopped, but his whole face was extremely sore. “It really isn't that humorous.”

“I can see why you would think that,” Tyrion grinned, his mismatched eyes dancing with amusement, “but dear brother I hate to tell you it really is. Did you really expect her not to hit you for what you said? Come now.”

He placed the soiled cloth on the table next to him and leaned back against the high back chair, “I admit it wasn't my finest hour.” He grimaced, “Did you know about what Cersei was doing behind my back?”

“I didn't have any proof,” his brother's mirth died down a little, “only rumors. Hushed words that could never be turned into fact.”

“Varys knew,” he wouldn't meet the dwarf's knowing and slightly sad eyes, “He was the one that started whispering in my ear about Kettleblack.”

“Yes,” Tyrion sighed. “That doesn't surprise me. The spider has his little birds everywhere. He is good to have on your side but it is also good to know that he will do what he wants with the knowledge he acquires. He spies for everyone, including me, and spies on everyone, including me.”

A young boy, stumbled into the room. His cheeks were round with baby fat and slightly flushed. His eyes bright blue and his hair the color of rich wood. He smiled shyly at Jaime. “Ser Jaime,” he bowed, his words coming out in a stutter. “Lord Tyrion.”

“Pod!” Tyrion greeted cheerfully, “Do you have any news for us?”

“Bronn has been talking to some of his old friends,” the young boy shifted from one foot to another before forcing himself to stay still. He looked very awkward speaking to his Lord and Jaime. “He believes he can get Shea out of the capital tomorrow night.”

“Good,” although Jaime could tell Tyrion wasn't exactly thrilled by the news. He held the stem of his wine glass tighter than was necessary. He was once again reminded of his brother's other lover and shame filled him. He _should_ tell him. But he didn't want to lose the only member of his family that loved him without conditions. He was being selfish. He realized, however, he wasn't going to stop being so on this night with more than a little self-loathing. “Varys has given me use of his room. I will tell her tonight.”

“I'll distract Father, if you need,” Jaime said as if that would ease some of the hurt his brother was feeling. “Take as much time as you need, dear brother.”

Tyrion actually looked thankful. He tried not to vomit on the ground from the churning guilt in his stomach. He didn't deserve his brother's gratitude, but he couldn't handle seeing the hate he knew he _did_ deserve. He took a sip from his goblet to cover up what he was thinking.

<<>><<>>

He saw Brienne the next day in the garden. She was walking with Margaery and Sansa. He watched from the third floor stairwell as the three women talked. Brienne was easily a head and a half taller than the other two. Her cotton blue tunic and brown pants made her stand out even more compared to the elegant dresses of the younger women. Margaery wrapped her arm around Brienne's and they bent their heads in to speak. Sansa watched passively, occasionally adding something. But for the most part the redhead looked uncomfortable and defeated.

He wasn't surprised. She was a prisoner here. A wounded wolf surrounded by hungry lions. He remembered how she appeared the first time they met. Back then she was shy and happy, hopeful and so fucking young. Now she just seemed hopelessly. The Lannisters had completely broken her. 

_We should be so proud_ , he thought mournfully.

The tall blonde tensed slightly at something and her head began moving from side to side, searching. She looked all the way around her, turning to face where they had been walking, before tipping her head up toward the landing he was on. Her eyes found his for a moment. The sun created a halo around her fair hair, making her look like the angel of mercy he knew she was. Her full lips pulled down in a frown and she turned away again when Sansa spoke. His breath had caught in his chest, only releasing when she looked away. 

He felt cold without her eyes on him. It was a odd feeling. But nonetheless a true one. He wanted to rush down there and apologize for his stupid, thoughtless words. He knew, however, words were wind. He had hurt her. He had _wanted_ to hurt her because he didn't want to suffer alone. And because she was saying things he didn't want to hear. 

The three women continued on their walk. Jaime watched them disappear into the tent that was set up for their afternoon tea, the light material flapping and folding in the breeze. He waited another minute, hoping maybe he would catch another glimpse of her. Just one more. When he was sure he wouldn't he continued up the stairs to where he was meeting with the other members of the Kingsguard.

<<>><<>>

To say he was unimpressed by the knights that were part of the guard, would be an understatement. Jaime stared at them in dismay. Gone were the honorable knights like Ser Arthur Dayne and Duncan the Tall. Members that were good and true. Now he was stuck with the likes of Osmund Kettleblack and Boros Blunt. The wreckage of the once prestigious band of brothers was devastating to Jaime. 

_What would Ser Arthur think if he could see us now_?

He shuddered to think of the disappointment in his eyes. Unable to look at these men any longer, he dismissed them from his sight. He sat heavily down in one of the hard wooden chairs and pulled the white book toward him. He flipped through the pages of men that had come before him, getting more and more frustrated.

A throat cleared and he looked up to see Loras still in the room with him. He closed the door and sat back. “Did you want to say something, Ser Loras?”

“I spoke to Lady Brienne,” he pushed a curl from his forehead and swallowed. “I don't know if I believe her story about a shadow killing Renly.”

“But,” Jaime prompted, slightly annoyed.

“But,” the younger man continued. “I don't believe she killed him by her hand. She was very convincing.”

“She's telling the truth,” he stated, “She gave her word to protect him with her life. She never goes back on an oath. As I said before she's faithful to a fault. Brienne would have died for Renly.” _She would have died for me, had I let her_ , he didn't want to contemplate that thought too much. 

“Do you think it was Stannis? As she said,” the boy was clearly not getting the hint that Jaime wanted to be left with his thoughts. “It seems crazy right? Why would he kill his own brother?”

“Not that silly,” he patiently told him, “Stannis sees himself as the rightful heir and his brother was a threat to that. It's war. Family binds aren't always the strongest.” His fingers tapped the white book. “There are rumors of Stannis working with a red priestess. I can't give you details. I wasn't there but I would not put it past Renly's brother to do something heinous in the quest for power.” He locked eyes with the younger man. “He wouldn't be the first and he won't be the last.”

<<>><<>>

His father held the sword in his hand. It took his breath away in the same fashion it had the first time he saw it. The golden hilt with lions roaring and rubies glinting at him. He tested the weight and balance. It was perfect. The Valyrian steel gleamed in the fire light. The gray black metal with swirls of red set his heart racing. 

“The sword was made for your hand,” Tywin told him as he moved through his solar. 

All Jaime could think was that he was wrong. It was meant for another. He nodded to his father, sheathing the sword. “Thank you.”

His father didn't say anything else and neither did he.

<<>><<>>

Cersei didn't appreciate being ignored from many, but especially from him. Jaime could feel her rage filled eyes on him as he walked behind Joffrey to the dais and took his place at his right side. He pointedly didn't meet her gaze and knew he was playing a dangerous game. The great hall filled with Lords and Ladies all trying to get time with the king and enjoy the festivities of the announcement of a tourney to celebrate the upcoming weddings. Joffrey looked bored with them, twisting his knife around blade point down, until Brienne walked in with Sansa at her side.

His son sat up a little straighter, leaning forward, a slow smile working it's way onto his thin lips. Jaime felt like he was watching a predator stalk his prey and it turned his stomach. Brienne stood off to the side, keeping the Stark girl close. He wondered if she could sense the king's interest in the two of them. As if she could hear what he was thinking, she raised her head and looked in his direction. Her clear sky blue eyes stared him down. Her feelings for him transparent as glass. He couldn't tear his gaze away. He hated the distance. He hated that he was the cause. He was finally making progress with her and now it appeared he was at square one again. All the trust he had managed to build between them was gone.

Sansa placed a delicate hand on her arm. The taller woman looked back to the redhead, whispering to the girl and patting her fingers. Together they took a seat as far from Joffrey as they could, knowing that the king would not approve of them being out of his sight. Jaime chanced a glance at Cersei and could see the wheels turning in her head. Her face was calculating. Nothing good came from Cersei having a target for her paranoia and rage.

Without trying, Brienne had found herself in the cross hairs of two of the most dangerous people in the realm. And he was the reason. Cersei stood from her chair at the long dinner table and came to stand on Jaime's opposite side where one of the flagons of wine was. 

“Your beast seems to have made a friend,” she smiled through her words that were spoken low enough that only he could hear as she nodded at the guests.

“Lady Brienne,” he emphasized her name. “Knew Sansa's mother. I'm sure she is offering her comfort now that Lady Catelyn has met an unfortunate end, sweet sister.”

His beautiful twin's green eyes showed no kindness even as she spoke with a light voice, “Or it's two traitors that have found each other.” She sipped from the glass slowly, “There are whispers that the great ugly giant killed her king and then immediately jumped to pledge herself to the Stark house. That doesn't sound like someone we should allow in our home, is it, dear brother?”

“She didn't kill Renly,” he said. “The only kingslayer here is me and you don't seem to have much issue with that.”

She walked around him, trailing her fingernail around his arm in a subtle way. To anyone that didn't know about their past relationship it would appear innocent. Cersei knew what lines to cross and how far she could go before she got to one. “I've missed you.” She lowered her voice further, “It's not been the same since you came back.”

“I believe you have found someone to guard you well enough,” he looked around them and found Osmund taking to a young lady. 

“He isn't you,” she used the voice she knew would make his toes curl. 

Jaime was almost relieved when he only felt a small sharp ping of arousal, the familiar one that came with it being _her_ , and not the all consuming need he usually did. “No sweet sister,” he leaned in quickly, “he isn't.”

He walked down the steps and nodded to another guard. His shift was done for the night. And he needed to think. It was time to get Brienne and Sansa out of the capital.

<<>><<>>

Jaime stood in the White Sword Tower staring at the white book once again once he left the feast. He flipped through the pages and pages of deeds listed for each knight. The entries were long, until he reached his page. His fingers traced over his name written carefully. The entry was only the barest of facts about his life. The age he was knighted. When he became a member of the Kingsguard. Which kings he served. And the most egregious act of them all, the one he was most proud of, killing the mad king. 

He rubbed at his chin, stubble prickling at his fingers. His eyes glazed over as he looked hard at the page. One day he would write Brienne's name in this book. He would proudly write all about her and he could add to his own page. Jaime would talk about fighting along side her and how her bravery taught him that he could be better. It was a promise he made to himself. That was one part of his other life he would not change. Brienne would be a knight. It was one of the only things he got truly right.

<<>><<>>

It was very late when he finally got the courage to go to her. He rocked on his heels before knocking on the heavy wood door. He heard movement and then the sound of the latch being lifted. She peeked around the edge of the door. 

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, anger dripping from every word.

He pushed past her, invading her space. He placed his present for her on the small table. “We need to talk, but first,” he turned to face her and sucked in a deep breath. She was wrapped up in a black robe, her hair messed from laying on the bed and her eyes were slightly red. It was like being flung back into a nightmare. If they were standing outside he would swear this was that night in Winterfell. Jaime's heart thundered in his chest. “I need to apologize.”

Brienne looked away from him, “It's done. You made your feelings quite clear.”

“I was angry and an ass,” he tried to catch her eyes. He needed to look in them so she could see he was telling the truth. “Please look at me Brienne.” She hesitated then met his gaze. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did.”

Her lips rolled together then she shrugged, “It was not untrue. I've never really been in love. I shouldn't have acted like I knew anything about what you were feeling.”

“You were telling the truth as you saw it,” he took a step closer to her. “You were being honest with me and I threw heartless words back at you. You didn't deserve that.”

A beat, then another, “I accept your apology.” A rare half smile curled her lips, “how's your nose?”

“Sore,” he smiled back at her. “But I know I deserved it.” She shrugged again, turning her face away so he couldn't see the smile grow. “I have some thing for you.” He took the sword from the table and handed to her. 

She carefully unsheathed the blade, her beautiful eyes widening, “Valyrian steel.” Her voice was as breathless as he felt holding it in his hand. “It's magnificent.”

“It's yours,” Jaime told her softly. She opened her mouth to object and he held up a hand to stop her. “It's forged from Ned Stark's sword. Use it to protect his daughter. Use it to fulfill your oath. All great swords have names, it would please me if you would name this one, _Oathkeeper_ ,” The endless blue depths of her eyes searched his then she nods to him, “We need to get you out of King's Landing and soon. I fear that my sweet sister and the king have taken too keen an interest in you. With Sansa's wedding to my brother only a half a week away it needs to happen quickly.”

“When,” she asked, replacing the sword on the table and tightening the sash of her robe. 

“I think the tourney will be the perfect cover,” he told her. “We can sneak you both on one of the ships coming in and out of the harbor. It might be our last chance.”

Brienne swallowed roughly, but her face showed her determination, “What about you? If you get caught...”

“Are you worried about me, wench?” She rolled her eyes but the concern was there. “Don't worry about me.” He took another step in her direction. He wanted to touch her so badly. “Let's just get you away from here so my family doesn't cause you harm.”

She nodded, licking her lips. He watched the pink tongue wet them. The air between them became thick with need. Looking into her eyes, he could almost believe she felt it too. Jaime reached up to push some hair from her forehead, his fingertips grazing her skin. She stared at him, her eyes filling with confusion, want and distrust. He forced himself to take a step back, then another. 

“Good night, Lady Brienne,” his tone was deeper and huskier to his own ears. He walked swiftly toward the door. His hand was on the knob when she said from behind him.

“Good night, Ser Jaime.”

He practically ran from the room.

<<>><<>>


	8. Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Finally she twisted her head in his direction, her chin jutting out with resoluteness. “I trust you, Ser Jaime.” Her words sent a fire storm through him and he prayed to all the Gods, the seven, the many faced, old and new, that he would be worthy of that trust._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter and I'm not entirely sure I like it much, but maybe...hopefully you will not think it is complete horse poo. Thank you for the kudos, comments and encouragement! It really does make me smile to know you are enjoying the story.

<<>><<>>

The castle was abuzz with activity. Servants moved quickly from one area to the next making sure every detail was taken care of, as to not displease the King or the Queen Regent. Jaime stepped out of the castle passing the practice yards were the new young squires were learning some of the basic sword fighting moves. He smiled to himself, remembering the feeling of holding a sword for the first time and feeling absolutely invincible.

Further back there were knights getting their weapons ready for the tourney. Horses were being brushed down and fitted for new bridles. The energy of contest in the air. Jaime had loved competing. There was nothing quite like facing an adversary head on with only skill on your side. Well fucking and fighting were better but in the absence of those...

He caught the sight of a blonde head leaning against the railing watching some knights take practice runs with their jousts. Her body was taut, not relaxed at all, but he couldn't blame her. In two days the tournament was set to begin and that's when their plan would be put into action. Jaime knew he shouldn't be seen with her, they had agreed that distance would be key. Cersei was looking for any reason to cause her harm, but he wanted so badly to talk with her one on one. This might be one of his last opportunities before she would be gone. Throwing caution to the wind, he walked over to her resting against the wood fence next to her. 

Her shoulders hunched down, trying to appear smaller. Her eyes darted to his for a second before turning her full attention to the knights. 

“You joust,” he asked keeping his voice neutral. 

“I have,” she admitted watching a knight in green and white checkered attire charge along, pushing his horse as hard as he dared. “I prefer the melee though. It's more exciting. I competed in one during my time in Renly's camp. Won it.” Her large mouth smiled just a little, “Against Loras.”

Jaime laughed to himself, “Some how, wench, that doesn't surprise me.”

“Are you ever going to stop calling me that ridiculous name,” she side eyed him, there was no malice to her tone. No humor either. Just exasperation. 

“Most likely not,” He answered her question and asked one of his own, “Weapon of choice?”

“Morning star,” she replied without hesitation. He nodded in approval. “You?”

“Sword,” he slid an easy grin her way. 

“Of course,” she rolled her eyes and turned back to the knights. 

“I've started reaching out to some people that might be able to help us,” he kept his voice low so only she could hear him, her blue eyes focused solely on his green ones. “There is a ship that will be coming in on the day of the tourney to deliver supplies. Bronn has some connections...” He squinted against the afternoon sun, “We might have to involve someone I don't fully trust.”

“Can I ask who,” she curled her long fingers around the wood of the rail tightly, the only outward sign of her discomfort.

“Littlefinger,” he told her. “He can help get our little dove out of this barbed cage.”

“But you don't trust him.”

He paused, “He has his own agenda. I know he schemes with the best of them in King's Landing, so no I don't trust him, but we can't do this without someone that knows how to work the people that need to be worked.”

She was quiet, her face turned away from him. Her large teeth working against the flesh of her lip. He could see the thoughts pass across her face. The worry etched in the small lines around her mouth. Finally she twisted her head in his direction, her chin jutting out with resoluteness. “I trust you, Ser Jaime.” Her words sent a fire storm through him and he prayed to all the Gods, the seven, the many faced, old and new, that he would be worthy of that trust.

<<>><<>>

The day of the tourney had arrived and his insides were knotted up. Jaime walked around the tents at all the competitors, swiftly making sure everything was going as planned. Squires and young knights rushed back and forth getting different items needed for the events. The stands were starting to fill with nobles, excitement on each of their faces. He glanced quickly through the crowds to find Brienne and Sansa. They had chosen their seats carefully. They were in clear view of the King and the royal family, where Tyrion would be sitting until it was time for him to leave, but could make a quick get away when the time came using the tunnels that Tyrion told them about to reach the ports without being seen. 

He felt jumpy waiting for the festivities to begin. He wanted this day over with and for them to be on the ship sailing far away from this snake pit. The past couple of days have been tense between everyone. It was hard to keep secrets in King's Landing and nearly impossible to do it within the castle walls. Each conversation Tyrion, Brienne, Sansa and himself had was carefully orchestrated so as to not draw attention to themselves. Notes passed while walking in halls. Or moments stolen in darkness.

The young women had enough focus placed on them and he tried to reduce that as much as humanly possible. Cersei was hovering closer and closer, making a point to ask the Stark girl to sit with them at dinner, because she was going to be a Lannister soon enough. Her jade eyes always cutting in the way they watched Brienne react. He had to give the tall blonde credit, she rarely rose to the bait and when she did she was able to cover her reactions quickly. Still he noticed that her body was always tight, she was hyper aware of everything happening around her. Jaime thought that was a smart way to act.

For Joffrey's part, he made a point to be close to his former betrothed as much as possible. Jaime had caught him making comments to the young girl that revolted him. The boy king made it clear that once Sansa had her maidenhead taken, he would do some taking of his own. The way the girl trembled haunted Jaime and firmed up his resolve to remove her from his king's presence. 

Every time he looked at the blonde boy, that so resembled Cersei and himself, he wondered how he could have made someone so cruel. Yes he was not a completely honorable man, but was this monster really part of him? He shuddered to think he was more than just a small part. 

The king's treatment of Brienne was worse. He took time out of his day to call the maid of Tarth vile names and he had made his king's guard members berate and humiliate her, one even going as far as to hit her across the face for showing disrespect. Jaime had been seething when he found her later that night with a wet cloth held to her red cheek, a palm print clearly visible.

_“Who was it,” he asked with barely controlled wrath._

_She had shrugged, “It doesn't matter. They were only following the King's orders. They were keeping their oath_.”

The way she said that made it all the more infuriating, because she was right. He still made sure to keep a better eye on the guards under his command after that. King or not, no one was going to hurt her while he could prevent it.

The first event started with a roar from the audience. The knights were seated on horses facing each other, the long lances under arm. The horses pranced side to side, ready to run at the sign it was time to fight. Jaime watched for a moment. The men bent their bodies down, kicking the beasts into action, running at full speed. The knight in green and black aimed his lance into the gut of the other knight clad in silver and red, sending him crashing hard into the ground. 

The crowd laughed and cheered as the green knight rode his horse back through the starting gate to await his next match. There were ten more competitions before the green knight was called back out to face his next opponent. His eyes searched for the women again. The plan was for them to sneak off during intermission. It would be when the crowds of people would be the most active and would give them the best cover possible. 

As the time grew closer he realized how much he was going to miss having Brienne at his side all the time. He knew it was best, and that he would meet up with her again, but the idea of not being able to see her whenever he wanted caused a piece of his soul to break. Jaime pushed the pain aside. It was stupid to focus on that right now. He could wallow in self-pity later. 

About an hour later the intermission was beginning. As subtly as he could he watched Brienne and Sansa navigate through the throngs of people. Jaime didn't breathe easy until he could not see his warrior's head any longer. He began walking towards the royal tent to keep Cersei and Joffrey from noticing their toys had left when he walked into Varys. The eunuch stood passively in front of him, his arms hidden in the sleeves of his robe. 

“Excuse me,” Jaime shifted his weight to the right to go around him.

“I do hope your birds fly safely to the ships,” the bald man's voice was smooth as he held Jaime's gaze.

Jaime's blood ran cold, “Little birds.”

“The Queen has been quite watchful over them,” he paused his expression never changing. “Our Queen is very good at listening to the cracks in the walls, especially when she already believes there is a reason. The Maidenvault is especially known for having many ears and eyes always paying attention.”

The truth of his cryptic words punch the air out of him. _She knows. Oh Gods be good. Cersei knows_. 

<<>><<>>

It was all going wrong. The plan formulated by Jaime and made almost manageable by Tyrion was all going to the seven hells. He should have seen it coming. Of course someone would notice the Lord Commander of the King's guard leaving the Maid of Tarth's room in the middle of the night. But fuck, he was desperate and now his desperation was costing him. It was costing Brienne. And Sansa and Tyrion.

Jaime ran to the docks just in time to see some of the Lannister soldiers rush Tyrion, Brienne and Sansa. He couldn't get there in time and there were too many of them for the blonde warrior to handle on her own. She fought hard, Oathkeeper weaving through soldiers as they got close. He ran faster, nearly tripping in his haste, watching with baited breath as she swung the sword, trying like hell to hold them back long enough to make it to the ship that was to take them to the Stormlands and from there to Essos. She pushed Sansa behind her, using her much larger body as a human shield. Her only concern was making sure that young woman didn't get taken back to the Red Keep. Back to Joffrey and to Cersei. 

Littlefinger came from behind and began leading Sansa to the boat with Tyrion falling into step behind them, his arm wrapped around her middle. The Stark girl cried out as Brienne fell hard to the ground after a particularly hard blow was delivered by one of the man under his command, she barely had time to block another. The redhead was fighting against the older men to get to the woman that was trying to protect her.

Brienne grunted, turning her head slightly, rolling from the attacks coming her way, “Get her to safety.”

Littlefinger nodded and pulled her more forcibly onto the ship that was ready to pull up it's anchor and set sail. The sobs of the girl got softer the further away she got. Brienne pushed the end of Oathkeeper into the ground and getting up to start battling again. Her speed was slowing, which made it easier for the men around her to get blow after blow in. One of the guards had managed to slice her under her ribs. Jaime's stomach dropped as he saw the blood gush from her side and she dropped to one knee. He made it to her just in time to see the soldiers clasp chains on her wrists and disarm her. 

She looked up at him, her brilliant sapphire eyes alight with pain. He rushed to her side but was held back by Ser Preston Greenfield. “Let me go,” he growled to his subordinate. 

“We have orders to take her to the King,” he told Jaime. “She is a traitor against the crown and is to stand trial.” They hauled her up and led her past him. Brienne's face was starting to lose color. “She's to be put in the black cells until her fate is decided.”

Jaime watched her be dragged back to the castle. Her head turned in his direction once. He held her eyes, feeling the weight of everything crash into him. They were going to kill her. His son and his sister would not spar her. The trial would be for show and she would die at the end. He had to figure out a way to stop it. He couldn't lose her. Not like this.

He thought he caught a glimpse of Cersei standing near the cliffs with a smile curling her lips.

<<>><<>>


	9. The Set Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Her stubbornness would be the death of her. But he couldn't help but feel a great deal of pride that she wouldn't break. She was facing this with more strength than many he knew. His heart swelled and broke all at once._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say thank you so much for the amazing words of encouragement and love. It means so much to me. I'm not sure I will be able to keep posting a chapter a day, but I will try and not leave too many cliffhangers. Thank you again for the comments, kudos and for all of you taking the time to read my little story.

<<>><<>>

It had been a week since Brienne was taken. He hadn't been granted time with her. He had asked Tywin why she was being held in the dungeon, reminding him that Brienne was a high born lady, an heir to Tarth. She shouldn't be in the darkest part of the castle. 

_“There are threats against the king,” Tywin told him, his face completely blank of emotion. “Even an attempted poisoning at the tournament. It was very lucky some poor minor Lord got the goblet meant for him. It was very same tournament that saw a member of a traitorous family get spirited away.” His pale bushy eyebrow rose, “Your brother and Lady Brienne helped. I don't have your brother or Sansa...”_

_“But you have Brienne,” Jaime finished numbly. “She didn't do it. You know she didn't.”_

_His father looked unconcerned, “Perhaps, but someone has to be punished for such a crime against the crown.”_

_“Find someone else,” he tried not to plead, he couldn't show weakness if he hoped to change this man's mind. “I helped free Sansa from this piece of shit place as well. I should be in those cells with her.”_

_The Lannister patriarch just shook his head, “Lady Brienne pledged herself to the Starks. She will stand trial for her crimes. If she is found innocent, we will free her. Justice will decide the maiden's fate.”_

_“She won't get a fair trial and you know it,” he had never spoken so harshly against his father. He had never had more reason to. “Cersei and Joffrey want her blood. She will be sent to her death. Just as Ned Stark was.”_

_“So be it,” the finality of those words, sent a bolt of fear down his spine_. 

His father actually forbade him from stepping foot in the black cells after that and took great measures to ensure that his oldest son listened to him. Jaime only heard from others how his lady warrior was. And the stories were not ones he enjoyed hearing. Podrick, the poor boy that got left when Tyrion boarded that ship, was able to sneak down there under the cover of bringing food from the kitchen. In his stuttering, youthful voice, he told Jaime exactly how the guards have been treating her.

_“Her face looks really bad, Ser,” he mumbled to the floor. “I think she might even be missing some teeth.” He looked up at the older man and his chin wobbled a little, “She doesn't cry.”_

_No, Jaime thought, she doesn't and she won't. She won't give them that_.

Her stubbornness would be the death of her. But he couldn't help but feel a great deal of pride that she wouldn't break. She was facing this with more strength than many he knew. His heart swelled and broke all at once. 

Now, Jaime glared at the floor in throne room, waiting for Brienne to be brought before the King and his sinister sister. His mind was working in overdrive. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't have been sent back to lose Brienne in this way. If he was, there really was no justice left in the world and the Warrior should have let him be thrown to the deepest parts of the seven fiery hells. He deserved to suffer for all eternity, she deserved only the very best. 

He glanced over at Cersei. Her perfectly pink lips hovering between a ghost of a smile and a mask of indifference. It was her eyes, however, that told the real story. The shamrock orbs sparkled with anticipation and victory. Her body, the body that had tempted him and vexed him since he was old enough to want, was the very picture of regal coolness. Her thick golden hair twisted elegantly around her head. To anyone that didn't know her, know what she had done, she would seem innocent.

He wasn't fooled. He knew that she was manipulating this whole thing. His blood burned with the knowledge that this mockery of a trial was causing her more joy than all their nights of passion had. When had his sister lost her humanity? Did she ever have it to begin with? Was he such a blind fool that he really didn't see this side of her?

 _You, Jaime Lannister, have taken truth and believed the lies instead_. 

The Crone's wise words rang in his head. He had. He had believed the golden coating of his sister and ignored the rotting evil underneath. Or maybe he didn't. He just didn't care, because that hatefulness had never been turned against him. Now he was not able to deny the truth. Too little, too late.

Where as Cersei concealed her bloodlust, Joffrey reveled in it. His pale jade eyes danced and his smile was cutting across his face. He gripped the edges of the throne, uncaring of the nicks to his skin from the melted down blades. The boy king looked over his subjects, watching them as varying degrees of weariness clouded their faces. Any one of them would kill this child monarch. And none would shed a tear over his corpse. The thought should make Jaime shake with fury, but it didn't. He felt nothing because he was contemplating it himself. 

The sound of chains against the cold stone floor snapped his attention to the doors of the throne room. He sucked in a sharp breath at Brienne's appearance as she was led in by two guards. Her left eye was swollen almost completely shut, her cheek had a bruise coloring it purple, her full bottom lip was broken and bleeding. Underneath all the evidence of the cruelty she had to endure was a look of steely resistance. 

Her back was straight, her shoulder were back and she never once dropped her head. Jaime stood up a little taller in response. She was not going to let Joffrey or Cersei see any fear and he could tell that was exactly what his son and sister wanted the most. The lady warrior took her place in front of the dais, glancing in his direction only briefly before focusing back on the king.

His son licked his lips, “You are being charged with treason against House Lannister and against the crown. Do you deny your involvement in helping the traitor Sansa Stark escape with my uncle Tyrion Lannister?”

Brienne angled her chin, “I do not.”

“Do you deny pledging your loyalty to Lady Catelyn Stark?”

“I do not.”

“Do you deny plotting to harm members of House Lannister?”

“I do,” her voice firm and strong.

“Do you deny buying poison from a dealer from Dorne?”

“I do.”

“Do you call the witnesses that testified here against you liars?”

“I call them mistaken,” she wouldn't take his bait. “I have never purchased anything from traders here in King's Landing.”

The king grinned, wicked and wild. “Do you deny lusting after and laying with the Lord Commander of my King's guard? Do you deny the earned title of Kingslayer's whore?”

Brienne's mouth opened in shock. His did as well. His eyes flew to Cersei, who was seething now. The cracks in her cool demeanor showing. This wasn't part of her plan. He could see it. Joffrey was doing this to further shame the young woman before him. 

“I,” the tall woman stuttered, her cheeks blazing red. “I do. I have never lain with Ser Jaime of the King's guard.”

“But,” Cersei spoke up, her voice barely composed. “You don't deny lusting after him?”

Jaime looked at her standing there alone in the middle of the room. Her breathing was quickening. This was taking it too far and lust wasn't a crime. If it was, he would be far more guilty than Brienne because he _did_ lust after her with abandon. He _would_ have lain with her eagerly and had to force himself to leave her presence more than once. He knew what her body felt like under his hand. How soft the skin was over her tone muscles. The sighs and gasps of pleasure she gave to him when he licked up her neck and suckled at her breast. He was right when he told his father this trial was a farce. 

“Enough,” his father stood from his chair. “The fantasies of this woman is not what this trial is about. Take her back to her cell while we decide her fate.”

Brienne wouldn't look at him as they dragged her away. Jaime walked over to his father. The older Lannister eyed him with a cold stare.

“May I have a word,” he spoke with as much respect as he could, while his heart was pounding in his ears.

His father gave a sharp nod and they left the throne room. As he went through the doorway, he looked back at his sister. Cersei arched her brow and glared. She hadn't gotten the blood she wanted, but there was still time, unless he could convince his father of another way.

<<>><<>>

Tywin took his seat behind the large desk, leaning forward. His pale forest green eyes calculating as his son sat across from him. 

“You wanted to speak,” his father waved his arm in front of him. “Speak.”

“Brienne,” he started then immediately realized he didn't know what to say. He looked away from a moment to gather his thoughts. “You are really going to let them kill her and put her head on a spike at the gate for something she didn't do.”

“There are a lot a heads that end up on pikes for doing nothing but being part of the wrong side,” the elder Lannister said with a shrewdness. “She aligned with the Northern house and before that she was part of _Renly Baratheon's Rainbow guard_ ,” the name was spat out with distaste. “The lady has been with our enemies and now she has helped a prized prisoner escape.”

“You admit Sansa was a prisoner than,” Jaime latched onto that.

Tywin shrugged, “She was, but she was also meant to be a Lannister.”

The unspoken part of that was: _so the Lannister's would have piece to use against the North later_. By letting Sansa get away, Brienne and Jaime had messed up his father's plans. That was the real crime here. Jaime dared to go against his father for once in his thrice damned life. He had started to break free of the bonds that held him captive and it was because of Brienne. 

His father could stop this. Even though Cersei wanted Brienne dead for taking him away. Even though Joffrey was king and thought himself above it all. The real power was sitting across from him. As Ilyn Payne joked many moons ago, the real power was the Hand of the king. He lost his tongue for that, but the truth was not so easily cut away.

“What do I have to do?” Jaime asked.

Tywin leaned forward on the desk. His eyes gleaming. He had his golden son exactly where he wanted him. 

<<>><<>>

Cersei was waiting for him in his room when he returned from being with their father. Her hair was let loose and hung in curls around her shoulders. Her lips curved into a seductive smile. She dropped her eyelids low, looking at him through her lashes. Her breast rose and fell, nearly bursting out of her bodice. 

“Dear brother,” she purred. “You have been with father for so long. Did you beg for the cow's life?” She moved with the grace of a dancer, circling his body, running her hands over his shoulders. “Did you talk about how good she is? How honorable?” 

“Sweet sister,” he took her hands in his, gripping them and holding them away from him. “You sound almost jealous. Are you scared Brienne has stolen me from you?”

Her eyes spark with anger, “You would never bed that ugly beast.” Her lips curl, her smile ferocious, “She's too manly for you. We both know what you like. Don't act like she could compare to me in any way.” She rose up on the tips of her toes, her teeth clamping down on his earlobe. “It's really not kind to play with the hulking maid's feelings like that.”

He fought with himself. It would be so easy to give in and fall back into her arms. Give into old habits. She wanted him. The lioness playing with her prey at the trial had lit a fire in her. At one time he would have pushed her against the wall and ripped her smallclothes aside, plunging into her always welcoming wet heat without thought. At one point he would have brought her a lamb to slaughter if it meant she would pant out his name while her cunt gripped his cock for the offering. 

He pushed her away from him again. This time adding distance, walking over to the door. He turned to face her. His hand on the knob. “Who says I am playing with her feelings, sweet sister?” Her cheeks reddened with madness. “Who says it's not me that lusts after her?”

“You can't be serious,” Cersei laughed. “You would look at _her_ while you could have me?” She shook her head. “Do not fool yourself, Jaime. You will never want another the way you want me. We belong to each other. You are _mine_. But if it makes you feel good to pretend you could get hard for that monster, go ahead. You can blow her head kisses while the crows eat out her eyes.”

“Don't be too sure it will be her head on a pike, Cersei.” He took his hand from the knob, stalking over to her. “I know you paid off people to say they saw her buying poison. I know that it's you that killed that minor Lord to set her up. You may think me stupid, sweet sister, and maybe I am, but I learn eventually.” 

His sister swept past him and out the door. He released the breath he was holding in and shut his eyes. He had just made an enemy out of his twin. He hoped he had made the right move.

<<>><<>>

Joffrey was watching the block get placed on the platform. His ever present grin at possibility of blood lighting up his face. Jaime stood next to his son. His king.

“The sentence hasn't been passed yet,” he said calmly.

The king's expression got even more manic. “She will lose her head uncle. It will be quite a sight to see that ugly face on my gate. It will scare away any that wish to enter my kingdom. A better use for that hideous beast of a woman could not be found I would say.”

“And I would say,” Jaime dropped his voice, deadly and chilling. “That a king should watch out for real traitors. The mad king liked to kill innocent people too.” He let a small smile settle on his lips. “We know what happened to him.”

“Are you threatening me uncle?” The boy king tried to appear unfazed but he could see the fear in his eyes. “That wouldn't be a smart thing to do.”

Jaime laughed, “You are my king. I would never threaten you. I just want you to be aware that being an unjust ruler can lead to a short reign. Many have fallen before you, Joffrey. Many will fall after you.” He slapped the boy on the back so hard he was pushed forward and then walked away. _Besides dear son, I don't make threats I don't intend to follow through on_.

<<>><<>>


	10. The Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Only love didn't have to be painful. He learned that with Brienne in Winterfell. It can be freeing and leave him feeling full of hope that happiness wasn't denied to him because of his past. It was so easy to see that now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I want to thank everyone that has read, commented and given kudos to this fiction. You have all made me smile each day. I hope you enjoy the new chapter.

<<>><<>>

The verdict in Brienne's fate was pushed back one moon turn, till after Joffrey's wedding to Margaery which was only three weeks away. Tywin made a point to say that it had to do with Selwyn Tarth making an effort to negotiate for her release and that there was been evidence of other conspirators. Every one knew what kind of tactician the eldest Lannister was when it came to politics, but Jaime didn't think even the most pitifully dense person believed his words. One of the things being one of the most feared man in all of Westeros bought him was that no one with an ounce of sense would call him a out on the blatant bull shit. They just nodded and bowed and cowered before him.

What it really came down to was his father was giving _Jaime_ the time limit he had until his offer would be snatched back and Brienne would pay the price with her head being taken. To satisfy the boy King's bloodlust, Tywin condemned a Dornish trader to death- the very Dornish man that Jaime was certain provided the poison to Cersei. It wasn't enough to curb the king's morbid needs but it gave the people a villain and a lamb for his son to slaughter. 

The one that was completely displeased with the fact that Brienne still lived was his sweet sister. Her mood turned more and more dark with each passing day. Her reliance on wine was also increasing to a troublesome degree. Jaime found her more often than not with a glass in one hand and the flagon in the other. Her mouth always had a reddish hue from drink and had a sneer for him should their similar green eyes cross. The pliant woman that came to him after his wench's trial was completely gone now. Jaime wondered at the lack of care he had at that. He had spent his entire life begging for crumbs of her attention. Hidden in the dark and convinced it was worth it because it was _Cersei_. And everything about her was worth the pain of love, the agony of longing.

Only love didn't have to be painful. He learned that with Brienne in Winterfell. It can be freeing and leave him feeling full of hope that happiness wasn't denied to him because of his past. It was so easy to see that now. Why couldn't he see that before? He felt shame thinking about _his_ Brienne, the one he had only for too short a time. The one that had taken him in her arms and stripped herself of her emotional armor as she stripped herself of her clothes. He should have treated her better. But he couldn't. He couldn't let himself love her because he wasn't who she thought he was. He had led her to believe he was good and honorable and worthy of her. He wasn't. Not then. All he could see was the fact that he wasn't a rotting corpse the way he thought he should have been. The cold hand of their demise was coming for them one way or another and he was sure the Stranger- the ghost of death he had always flirted with while holding a sword- was coming for him anyhow and he decided to meet him head on. 

Pretty words of forsaking loyalty to his house for her turned to ash when he climbed up onto that horse and rushed back to his sister at the first sign he could. The part that bothered him the most was that, she didn't scream at him. Brienne didn't slap him. She didn't call him out for dishonoring her and leaving her in the cold. She didn't try and hurt him the way Cersei did or the way he did to _this_ Brienne when he had gotten hurt by seeing for himself the way Cersei used her body to her benefit. No she didn't do anything against him. Her heart broke in his callous hands and she let him drop the pieces under his foot without lashing out at him the way she should have. 

He felt an odd sensation rightness at the fact that this Brienne had punched him when he used his sharp tongue to cut her. It was a small amount of justice for the one he loved and left. Not that it corrected the wrong, no that would take much more than one punch. 

The one good thing to come out of the stay in Brienne's verdict was that he actually got to see his warrior. His father relented in his quest to at least talk with her in her cell under the caveat that she would be chained and two guards would be posted out in the hall at all times. It seemed Tywin didn't quite trust his oldest son not to release this prisoner as well. Jaime couldn't exactly dispute the fact he was close to going straight to the spider to find a way to do just that. 

The first time he was let into the cell, she had her face hidden. Her straw colored hair falling forward to shield him from seeing anything too closely. She really needn't try so hard to conceal her wounds and bruises from him. It was so dark in the dungeon he could barely make out her hulking form as is. Light only came in flickering waves from the torches near the door and one placed in the middle of the room on a post. The floor was covered in dirt and he thought he glimpsed round brownish spots where her blood had dried on the stone. He leaned against the far wall, not daring to get closer because he didn't know what he would do if he did and waited for her to lift her head from her chest.

Soon the silence became too much, made him want to crawl out of his skin and he broke it, “Come now wench,” he used the name to draw her out. She was much too sullen. Too much like the Brienne he had met in Robb's camp. “I know you've never been particularly full of wit, but I know you're more talkative than this.”

Her shoulders hunched further and her large hand wiped at her face, quickly. Had he not been looking so intently, he might have missed the action. Jaime almost pushed from the wall right then but stopped when she turned her head toward him, keeping most of her blonde tresses over her face. 

“Have you come to reveal my fate?” She asked in a voice that was rough from the previous tears and lack of use. “Has the _king_ finally decided how I will die? By sword or by noose? I would prefer the sword, truth be told.”

“Are you so eager to die, wench?” His fists clenched at his sides. “Have you no fight left? This is not the wench I have come to know. The one that punched me right in the nose for daring to speak ill of Renly. The one that fought six soldiers while keeping watch on a child she had sworn to protect.”

“A soldier is always prepared to meet the Stranger, Ser Jaime,” she turned her body toward him and he had to stifle the sharp intake of breath and spark of pure anger at the sight. It might have been hard to see her, but the ripped clothes were visible all the same. 

This time he didn't stop himself from moving in her direction. He pulled the torch from the post and knelt before her. She watched him with haunted eyes. Jaime raised his the hand not holding the light and gently touched the torn fabric of her tunic. The material had been split showing her battered skin underneath. The edges of her breasts were cut with small, insignificant slices, just meant to bleed not to scar or kill.

“Has any guard,” he didn't want to ask. He didn't want to think about what they could have done to her, chained to a wall, against her will. The one gift he gave the other Brienne, the one thing he could say with certainty, was that her first time had been gentle and loving with someone that worshiped her. He took his time, waiting for her to move to the next stage in their night. He didn't take. He would never take what wasn't his to have. If this Brienne had not gotten that... If her maidenhead had been ripped from her by some asshole guards, he would tear every one of their cocks off with his bare hands and feed the flesh to them a moment before cutting their heads clean from their worthless bodies. “I swear to you, my lady, if anyone touched you...”

Her azure eyes held his for a moment then, judging him, not for what he was saying but for what she might tell him and how he would react. If was almost amusing to him that she would be concerned about _his_ feelings. Finally she shook her head, “They merely wanted to see what if I was man, woman or beast.” He closed his eyes, disgusted. “I got the impression that it was not only their curiosity they wanted to sate.” She pushed her hair back behind her ear, giving up on hiding from him. “I would not let them rape me, Ser Jaime. They would have to kill me first.”

“Chained to a wall, Lady Brienne,” he said with sadness and honesty, “I'm not sure you would have had a choice.”

“I would not have been raped,” she reaffirmed. “I might be chained and a woman, but I'm not weak and I would not be taken without more than one of them going to the seven hells with me.” Her fierce determination and confidence made Jaime almost believe it. But he knew that with enough force even the woman before him could be overcome. It's not a thought he wanted to carry with him, but the images of her screaming and fighting for her virtue would not leave him quietly. Brienne chewed at her lip, “Do you think Sansa and Tyrion are safe?” 

He rose from his position on the ground, replacing the torch in it's holder, “I believe so.” He came to sit on a dirt covered crate. “I have not heard anything about an imp named Lannister or a girl with Tully red hair being captured. And I know that Cersei and Joffrey both would make quite a fuss about it if they were.”

She nodded, then asked almost too quietly for him to hear, “Why does your sister hate Tyrion so much?”

“She thinks he killed our mother,” he shrugged. “Cersei blames his birth for her death. My sweet sister can be very focused when it comes to feeling wronged and she felt Tyrion had wronged her. When he was just a babe, she used to pinch him so hard he would bruise and cry. Her tactics have changed but her feelings have not.”

“She should be grateful,” Brienne replied, picking at the worn material of her britches, “I do not have any one but my father left and I am not even sure about that. What is happening outside this tiny cell or this capital is not known to me.”

“Did you ever have any siblings?” 

He knew she did not of course. He had even caught her lost in a memory one time while at Winterfell. Her eyes had been wistful and slightly wet, _“If I had died,” she said looking out at the bodies waiting to be burned, “I might have seen them again. I am glad to still be among the living, but I would give anything to see them again_.”

“I had an older brother, who never lived long enough to have adventures off our little rock in the Narrow Sea,” she pulled at the thread on her pants harder, “and two sisters that never made it out of the cradle.” Her gorgeous, big blue eyes locked on his green ones, “The Gods played a heartless jape on my father that all he had left was a daughter to manly to be accepted at court, but too much a girl to be accepted on the training yards.”

He wanted to contradict her. Jaime wanted to pile her with sweet words about how her father was blessed to have a daughter like her. He wanted to but stopped himself. She was too in her own head and would not listen to the truth from his lips. His words needed to be more than air formed into sounds, it needed to be action done with purpose. Brienne believed in him first when he showed her there was reason to. 

“Well wench,” he straightened his back, placing his hands on his knees, “You are still too manly for court and too much a woman for the practice fields.” He grinned cheekily at her. “Although I rather enjoy listening to you grunt while you wield a sword.”

Her cheeks lit up with a blush, “You mock me, Ser.”

“I do not,” Jaime insisted. “You are a very...” he paused as if searching for what he wanted to say, “ _vocal_ fighter.” He let the suggestion linger between them. 

She scowled at him and opened her mouth, most likely to say something mildly sharp when the guard opened the door to the cell. “Time is up, Ser Jaime,” the Lannister soldier stood stiffly. “Your father was very clear that you were only to be given till the prisoner's meal arrived.” Pod appeared looking nervous, carrying a wooden tray that almost seemed too large for his tiny arms. 

“Ser Jaime,” he hesitated, caught between wanting to show respect by bowing and not wanting to spill the lady's supper on the dirty floor.

“At ease, boy,” he took pity on the young squire. “Feed the lady,” he glanced at Brienne with another brash grin. “We don't want her weak while in here. It will not be as much fun to torment a feeble wench.” If glares could in fact kill, Jaime was quite sure he would be dead. He bowed to the woman currently plotting his death in her mind. “I will see you tomorrow, my lady.”

Once he was completely out of the dungeons, his smile dropped. The cuts on her chest, her torn shirt and the bruising on her face was locked in his brain. Jaime made a decision in that moment. He knew what he had to do. He knew what he wanted to do. Now he just had to do it...

<<>><<>>

Jaime stood in the White Sword Tower, staring at the book, and more specifically his pages. The quill in his hand dripped a thick black pool of ink onto the table. He wiped at it with the back of his hand, smearing the liquid on the smooth wood. He stared at the mess before deciding he would clean it up in a moment. He placed the quill to the page and very carefully started to write.

<<>><<>>

The day of Joffrey's wedding had arrived quickly enough. The Lords and Ladies filled the Sept, politely commenting on the King's handsome features, but absolutely fell over themselves talking about his blushing bride. Jaime had to roll his lips together to stop from laughing at Cersei's features clouding over at the praise the younger woman was getting. The lioness was not used to not being the most beautiful and talked about in the room. Her vanity was in jeopardy and all she could do was smile at the words with practiced grace.

The little rose of Highgarden was the very picture of humility. She blushed at every kind word and thanked every Lord and Lady that bestowed her and her new husband with gifts. If Jaime wasn't so used to the ways of court and how young women are taught to be meek and delicate, he would almost believe the color in her cheeks was true to her feelings. But he did know the ways of court and could clearly see the sly smile behind the innocent one. 

Joffrey leaned back in his high back chair, his goblet held loosely in his hand. His son's eyes were bright and filled with the blurriness of too much drink. Margaery stood up on the small lifted stage, she looked down at her king husband, appearing to be completely in love with him. Jaime was really impressed with her and her shrewd grandmother. 

“My benevolent and handsome King and I would like to thank you for coming to be a part of this blessed day,” She turned her head to each table at the feast, including everyone. “We have so much and know there are many with so little do to the war, so my beloved King has decided to give to his subjects and donate all the left overs from this feast to those less fortunate.” Jaime's eyebrows shot up. _Damn she is good,_ he thought. _She has managed to make my child seem giving and not not like the monster he truly is._ “Please join us as we celebrate and rejoice in all that the seven have given us.”

The Lords and Ladies clap for the young queen and Joffrey kissed her knuckles. Jaime shook his head at the display. His father did it. He made a match that was both powerful and helped his grandson's image. A large golden crown was wheeled out and Tywin walked up to the King. He held the sister sword to Brienne's in his hand, ready to present the priceless weapon to Joffrey. The young king grinned at the shimmering blade and Jaime couldn't help but think that the boy didn't know anything about the steel in his hand.

To him, a man that had loved the feel of metal in his against his palm since he was old enough to hold a blade, it seemed almost a crime to give the boy such a beautiful gift. He fought with those thoughts, moving further back to watch Joffrey swing the blade with unskillful moves. _Brienne would be horrified_ , he thought with a small grin.

Tywin came up to him as Joffrey swung the blade into the golden crown to release the doves hidden inside. Everyone cheer, awed by the display. 

“What have you decided, son,” Tywin asked him from his spot at his side.

“I thought I had another week left to determine my path,” Jaime said for no real reason. Both knew what his answer was. The words just hadn't been spoken yet. “Why the rush all the sudden?”

“There are rumblings of a new threat from the Free Cities. A lost Targaryen boy. He has been gaining support.” His father's eyes sliced in his direction. “Your Uncle Kevan seems unconcerned by this, assuring that he is but a boy that looks the right age and has the right look. I need to know that my children will be where they are most useful if the boy decides to cause trouble.”

Before Jaime could process the information a scream cut through the jovial feast. Both father and son turn toward the sound, just in time to see Joffrey fall to the ground, clutching at his throat. Cersei wailed, holding her boy in her arms, as blood leaked from the corners of his eyes and bile coated this chin. Jaime's eyes swung to Olenna, who had a shaking Margaery in her arms. The old woman patted her granddaughter's head, speaking into the little rose's ear. 

A server was seen running away and Jaime gave chase, yelling at the other members of the guards to catch the man before he could flee. Cersei's wrecking sobs broke his heart. For all the tension between them lately, one thing could not be changed. They had shared a son and now that son was dead. 

<<>><<>>

The Maester did not find any food in Joffrey's throat. Jaime knew they wouldn't. His son had been poisoned. For real this time. It wasn't his sweet sister setting up a woman she didn't like to get her revenge. Cersei was a bitter shell of herself, watching over the rotting corpse of their son. Her hair, which was always perfectly styled, was knotted curls around her face. Her eyes were red rimmed and cold. There was a deadness that wrapped around her like a black cloak. 

For days he stood by the slab where his son lay and waited. Waited for the tears. The pain to overwhelm. The sadness to swallow him up. But he felt nothing. Or at least nothing like a father should feel for his dead son. He felt guilty for letting it happen again in this life. He felt guilty for not feeling more anguish. He felt guilty that he was almost relieved...

No that wasn't what a father should feel. But then again, he was never Joffrey's father. Not really. The boy was a bit of his seed that took up space in Cersei's womb. A squalling mass that took his sister's attention from him and left him without her warm cunt for months. Now he was a boy of four and ten that was ruthless and cruel and dead way before his time because of it. 

On the fifth day he heard about the attempt on Brienne's life. A green boy, probably from the poorest parts of the realm, snuck into her cell with a knife and made to cut the wench's throat open. She beat him back easily enough and the guard drug him out, quickly executing him for trying to kill a prisoner that was, for the time being, under the protection of the Hand, until he had decided her fate.

It didn't take him long to connect the dots. He knew who hired the woefully pitiful assassin. Cersei didn't deny it. She flung her wine goblet at his head and demanded _he_ bring her the bitch's head for killing her son. There was no reasoning with her. He could see her thirst for Brienne's blood was never going to change. She wanted the woman she saw as the cause of all the problems in her life gone.

_“If you don't do it dear brother,” she hissed at him from the floor of her bedchamber. “I will find someone that will and I can promise, they will not be as gentle as you would be.”_

<<>><<>>

When Jaime walked into the black cells, Brienne was on her feet. Her eyes were red and she looked at him with pity. He took several steps into the room and she tried to meet him half way, only to be stopped by the chains. She closed her eyes and twin tears fell from the corners. He couldn't understand why she was crying when he couldn't seem to find the sorrow in himself to well up with emotion. 

She wiped at the tracks, smearing blood and dirt onto her cheeks. “Jaime,” she whispered, her words thick. He took just a second to enjoy his name, only his name, falling from her lips. “I'm so sorry for you. I am sorry for your family. Joffrey was not kind. I know he probably wasn't good for the realm, but he was your s-” she stopped herself from saying the word, instead saying, “Sworn king and nephew.”

He took her hands in his, his thumb pushing the dirt aside, trying to get at the skin under the grime. She swallowed roughly, the steadiness of her pulse jumping a little under his touch. He felt his heart beat a little quicker as well. This was the first time he had touched her, really touched her, and she let him. He was already certain of his next move. Had already told his father what it would be. The eldest Lannister was less than thrilled by the choice, but granted him what he wanted because it was what his father wanted. Jaime took a long time trying to come up with the words. 

Finally, he opened his mouth and the only words that mattered spilled from his lips, “Marry me.” 

<<>><<>>


	11. Decisions Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Marry me.”_
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> _The words hung there between them, heavy and thick. Her eyes were wide and full of confusion. He didn't know what he was expecting her to do or say in response to his simple proposal, but the lack of response was killing him. He would have rather her yell, or punch him, or laugh. But she just stood there. Her cheeks started turning a deep shade of red, the flood lit up and out, fanning the skin._
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> _“Marry you?” she repeated slowly, as if giving him the time to slap his knee and reveal the jape. “Ser Jaime, you are a member of the Kingsguard, you have sworn to take no wife and sire no children. This really is a ridiculous joke, ser.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh sweet heavens, thank you so much to all that read and commented on the last chapter. I was blown away by the amount of love you have been giving this story. I know I say it each time, but it really does brighten my day to hear your thoughts. Thank you again. I hope you like the next part in the story as much.

<<>><<>>

“Marry me.”

The words hung there between them, heavy and thick. Her eyes were wide and full of confusion. He didn't know what he was expecting her to do or say in response to his simple proposal, but the lack of response was killing him. He would have rather her yell, or punch him, or laugh. But she just stood there. Her cheeks started turning a deep shade of red, the flood lit up and out, fanning the skin. 

“Marry you?” she repeated slowly, as if giving him the time to slap his knee and reveal the jape. “Ser Jaime, you are a member of the Kingsguard, you have sworn to take no wife and sire no children. This really is a ridiculous joke, ser.”

“I'm not a member of the Kingsguard any longer,” he took a half step into her. He tilted his chin up as to not lose her eyes from even a moment. “I have resigned from my station. Three kings have died under my watch. One by my hand-”

“You saved the city,” she interrupted. Her voice fierce and quick to assure him, he did the right thing. His already pounding heart, kicked up from a gallop to a full run. “The Mad King left you no choice. You sacrificed your honor for the lives of the people in King's Landing.” Her hand turned so that their palms touched, rough skin against rough skin and she wrapped her long fingers around his and squeezed. It was the first time she had ever touched him and he almost lost his composure.

“It doesn't change the fact that I broke my vow,” he told her, denying himself her absolution. “The second king died while I fucked his wife, my sister, and threw a child out the window of a tower to his presumed death.” She flinched at his blunt words. If they were going to be wed, he was not going to hide from her. Besides she knew him and all his dirty deeds already. “I was meant to protect the king and had no desire to. Robert's death made me _happy_. The drunken fool would finally stop touching Cersei and I would have her to myself.”

Brienne looked away from him. Her cheeks lost the redness from before, paling in the aftermath of that statement. Bringing up Cersei, his long time lover, while trying to get his current, if only in his memory, lover to marry him was probably not the smartest plan but, he mentally shrugged, he was never one for thinking. He released one of her hands and turned her face back to him. Her expression was cool, but her eyes gave away the storm brewing inside her. 

“Joffrey's death was just the last and latest.” He finished with a shrug. “My father has always wanted me out of the cursed brotherhood. He is finally getting his way.”

“Ser Jaime,” he wished she would drop the _ser_ like she did when he first walked in. “Being emotional over your _sworn_ ,” she used sworn in replacement of son, “king's death is not reason enough to walk away from a position as honorable as Lord Commander. You have earned that place in the brotherhood.”

“I was going to leave anyway,” he admitted softly. “I had decided before the wedding to walk away.”

“Why,” she asked cautiously, as if the real reason being her entered her mind but not quite believing it. “What could possibly cause the great Jaime Lannister to give up his place at Cersei's side, at his king's side?”

Jaime thought back to the night of her trial, sitting in his father's solar. The two men staring at each other. The head of the house and hand of the king smiled at him calculatingly.

_“What do I have to do,” he asked, already knowing the answer his father would request of him and already knowing his response._

_Tywin leaned forward, his imposing presence overwhelming his son even with the distance the table allowed. “Leave the Kingsguard. Take your place as my heir. The Rock was always your destiny. This,” he waved his hand at Jaime's white cloak in disgust, “was a foolish fancy of a boy that should have known better.”_

_“It's an honor to be asked,” he insisted even though he had told Brienne basically the same thing when they were on their way to King's Landing. “I don't regret taking the vows.” The lie sounded hallow to his ears. He regretted those fucking vows every day. If he never taken them, he would not be known as the Kingslayer... _And King's Landing would have burnt to the ground. Bones and ash and nothing but rumble._ “Besides who would replace me as Commander, Osmund Kettleblack? Boros Blunt?”_

_“You let me worry about that,” his parent stared at him. “Besides we both know that you will do what needs to be done to save the Maiden in our dungeon right now. This back and forth is tiring. You will give that cloak up, you will take your place at my side as my heir and you will return to the Rock as Lord Lannister, the way it was meant to be.” Tywin clasped his hands together, interlacing his fingers. The smile on his face was triumphant. “After Joffrey's wedding we will begin looking for a lady wife. One suitable for the Lannister name. After your sister has taken her vows to Wilas Tyrell, our house will once again be the most powerful in all the realms.”_

_“You planned this all,” Jaime was impressed and horrified._

_Brienne was just another piece in his father's game. Her being beaten in the cells, keeping _him_ away from her, all the humiliation at the hands of Joffrey... it had all been to get them to this point. This man in front of him had used his son's feeling against him and had hurt an innocent girl in the process. The coldness of his attitude was not new, but he had never seen it so cruelly used against one so guiltless. _

__Liar,_ his mind hissed. _You've seen it before. You saw it with Tysha. You have seen the lengths he will go to to get what he wants. You only care so much more now because it was Brienne he played with.__

_He felt sick at the knowledge. This was who sired him. His cold blood ran through Jaime's veins. Is it any wonder that Joffrey turned out so horribly. The Lannisters hid behind their golden looks and promises of debts being paid. Beautiful and rotten. He squashed the desire to cause pain to Tywin. Underneath his skin, his rage filled his mind with all the things he wanted to do at the moment. He would get his revenge on his father. Not now, but he made a promise with himself that he would for Brienne- and for the girl Tyrion had loved and had loved him back._

_Outwardly he schooled his features and met his father's green eyes. “I need time.”_

_“You have one month,” Tywin conceeded. “After that Lady Brienne will meet her fate. The verdict will be passed.”_

_Jaime nodded, getting up and leaving the room. He had some things to take care of and needed to see Bronn, his brother's confidant. The sellsword had skills that he needed. And had proven himself to be quite loyal to the one that paid him the most. Jaime intended to pay him very well indeed._

He let the memory fade and he gazed deeply into her eyes. “You.” 

Her orbs turned dark and her face immediately tightened. “You mock me, Ser.”

“I do not.”

She let out a bark of harsh laughter. “Oh really,” the pain of her past betrothals flickered across her features. “Do not insult me with lies.” 

He watched her remember the guy that laughed at her. The one that only wanted her for a broodmare. The one that died before they ever met. The _men_ from Renly's camp that made her maidenhead a game.She thought back to all the men that called her beast, him included, and too ugly to ever attract anyone let alone someone like Jaime Lannister. 

It was one the tip of his tongue to tell her about Tormund Giantsbane, the leader of the free folk, that nearly tripped over his own tongue when he looked at her. He wanted to tell her that he wasn't the only one. Jaime had to rush from her presence more than once to take matters into his own hand, when he was a man with only one, and both his hands now. Brienne would not believe him. She wasn't ready for the full extent of his feelings. But when she was- he was going to make her realize that all the things people mocked her for were the very things he loved about her.

And he did love her. He never told _his_ Brienne in Winterfell, he let his awkward flirting and his body do the talking. He would not make the same mistake twice.

“Yes, my Lady,” he took her face in his hands. She jumped away, hurt taking over her eyes completely. “Really. I am not lying to you. You are the reason I'm standing here now, asking for your hand.”

“You find me so irresistible,” she sneered at him, but the hateful expression didn't reach her gorgeous globes. “The very thought of me makes you so needy you would throw away your white cloak and Cersei's love?”

 _Yes_ , he thought. _You have no idea how desperate I am for you right now. You have no clue how much I want to hear you moan my name while I'm buried so far inside you, we can't tell where you end and I begin._

“A marriage between us would be mutually beneficial,” he appealed to her logical side. The flowery words of his feelings could wait. He could hold them in, even though they were burning a whole in his tongue. “My father will force me to wed. That is non-negotiable. He will parade lady after lady in front of me until he forces me to pick one.”

“Oh what a hard life you have,” she muttered, her eyes dropping from his. “You will have the entire realm to choose from and they will all want you.”

“I will not want them,” he declared sharply. “They will be meek and simpering and _bow_ to me even when I am at my most cruel. They will not know the difference between a two handed long sword and a proper dagger. I will be bored to tears in hours.”

“But you would want me,” her doubt at this was clear. “Ser Jaime, I am neither a beauty or particularly full of wit, as you have stated both to me yourself. I am not meant to be a lady. I am built by the Warrior, not by the Maiden or the Mother.”

“You know it wouldn't be just my life made better by the union,” he tried a new tactic. “You will need an heir for Tarth. And I would never curb your desire to be a knight. You could do what you wish.” Her face showed some signs of intrigue and he pursued it. “Not to mention you can not protect Sansa if you are rotting in the ground or become a feast for crows. Which you will. Cersei will find a way to blame you for Joffrey's death.” _And for taking me away from her,_ he added to himself.

She looked aghast, “How could I have caused his death? I have been chained to a wall with guard and a squire as my only company until you started coming around.” She shook her head. “It does not make sound sense.”

“The mad rarely make sense, Lady Brienne,” he reminded her. “Her grief has made enemies out of most and she already did not like you. Placing the blame for all her losses at your feet gives her a small amount of joy. Knowing you could not have done it, would never do it anyhow, means as little to her as the crushing a bug under her heel does.”

Brienne blanched a little as the truth of it settled in. She walked away from him and paced the floor of her cell. Her bottom lip was raw from her teeth running over it, pulling at the cracked flesh. 

“I could demand a trial by combat,” she reasoned. “I could _fight_ for my life.”

“Your opponent would be the Mountain,” Jaime told her. “I know how talented you are with a sword. I know you could hold your own against any combatant that would fight fairly and with honor. He would not. And he would have the authority to be as ruthless and brutal as he wished.” His mind went to the battered bodies of two children and one woman who died screaming, being raped until her life left her. 

“I could win,” she implored with only a small amount of doubt. “I could succeed in granting myself my own freedom.”

“You could,” he nodded. “But you won't. Brienne think. Cersei has already made an attempt on your life.”

“And you think she would stop just because I wear the house of Lannister cloak?” She scoffed. “If I were to be your wife, even in name only, she would come for me harder than before.” Her bright eyes told him she knew he was one of the reasons Cersei wanted her dead. “I beat the one that came to kill me this time and probably could beat the rest, but let's not fool ourselves my _Lord_ she will never let you go. Even to someone you could never love.”

He almost laughed. The thought of never being able to love her was so amusing to him. It might have taken him years to confess, even to himself, that he did, but now he couldn't imagine not loving her. It was as natural to him as the moon raising in the East was. It was as constant as the sun. It just was. 

“With you as a Lannister,” he stepped in front of her again. “My father would have more reason to rein my sweet sister in. The torment you have received in these cells were done by hands he commands, but if you were to be his daughter by law, he would crush any that dared to touch you. After of course I finished with them.” He touched the bruise that was fading to a sickening yellow on her cheek bone. “It took every ounce of my will power not to kill them all for this and,” he glanced at her chest which was now covered with a tunic he had Pod bring her. “That.”

Her chin jutted out, fire blazing in her eyes, “I know who they were, you do not. I can get revenge for myself.” Jaime smiled at that. He knew she could. He knew she would. And told her as much. She smiled slightly back at him. “I once told my father that I would only marry a man that could beat me in a fight,” she stated.

“Well, then, my Lady,” he grinned wolfishly at her. “It is a good thing I already have.”

She glared at him, “I would not call that a win.” Her expression was sour, but amusement danced in her blue orbs. “I slipped and you took advantage.”

“Aye,” he chortled. “And you would have done the same to me had the misfortune happened the other way around. Either way, hearing you say _'I yield'_ while under me was sweet indeed.” 

She blushed deeply and her breathing changed. He looked at her lips for a long moment. He could lean forward and capture them. She was not unwilling. The raising heat from her body let him know that she might not fully understand what was happening between them, she was aware she felt something. It was a heady feeling, knowing that he almost had this magnificent woman right where he wanted her.

“You will be pitied with me as your wife,” she tried to avoid his gaze. 

“Let them be foolish with their pity,” he bit out. “It is you they should bestow that on,” her confusion at his statement made her return those glorious eyes to his. “You are the one that is good and honorable. I might be pretty to look upon, but you are the one that will suffer the actions of my past. I am not a prize. I have shit for honor and have done grievous things. My beastliness is hidden behind a golden exterior.”

“You are not a beast, Ser Jaime,” she whispered. “You have kept your oaths to me.”

“Not all of them,” he responded. “I have not kept you from harm at the hands of my family, but, my lady,” Jaime touched her face again. “I promise to do better.”

“I will not marry without my father's blessing,” her last defense. 

One he had anticipated. One of the reasons it took him so long to make it down here. The raven's journey from King's Landing to Tarth had taken more time than he liked. He took a scroll from his pocket and placed it in her hand. 

_Ser Jaime of House Lannister,_

_I have given your request for my daughter's hand in marriage much thought. The reasons to say no to you are many and the reasons to say yes are few. You have a reputation that does not need to be retold. But if what you say is true. That you mean to give my precious dove freedom to be who she is and will never harm her, I will grant you my blessing._

_I do want to make it clear, however. If you so much as look at her wrong and I find out about it, I will bring the seven hells upon you and your house. House Tarth might not be as rich as or as powerful as House Lannister, but I do not make threats I can not back up with action. Treat her with kindness Ser Jaime. Treat her with respect. And if you are smart enough to grow to love her, treat her as I have, like she is the sun._

_Yours,_

_Lord Selwyn Tarth, Evenstar_

Tears glistened in her eyes, “You asked for my father's blessing.” Her voice shook a little. “How long have you been planning this?”

 _Since I saw you again in that thrice damned cell in Robb's camp._ “Since your trial,” Jaime replied. “My father came to me that night with the offer of your life for my cloak. I wanted to do it right,” he shrugged. “I'm not just asking you to marry me to get you out of these cells and away from my asshole family. I'm asking you to also help me save myself. Lady Brienne of Tarth, please be my wife, my protector and my companion. Together we can try and right some of the wrongs my horrid family has done, starting with finding Sansa and returning her to the safety of the North.”

He knew he had finally said the right thing when she nodded her head. 

“I will, Ser Jaime,” she stood up to her full height. “I will marry you.”

<<>><<>>


	12. Dancing on the Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _As soon as the words of acceptance left her lips, a weight lifted from Jaime's shoulders. He honestly envisioned having to carry her kicking and screaming to the sept to wed. And he would have to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone that took time out of their days to read this story. To those that left kudos and comments you are amazing and have made me smile so much. I can't tell you how much joy each comment brings me. Again thank you!
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> A big shout out to my beta: merrymaya. Thank you for helping me out and catching so many of my errors. I couldn't have done it without you. She is incredible! And had the tough task of reading my horrible rough draft. Hopefully this draft is better and you all enjoy it. 
> 
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<<>><<>>

As soon as the words of acceptance left her lips, a weight lifted from Jaime's shoulders. He honestly envisioned having to carry her kicking and screaming to the sept to wed. And he would have to. It was in the back of his mind the entire time. He thanked the Gods, all of them, that it didn't come to that. That Brienne had seen reason in his words, and maybe even some of the underlining feelings he was trying to hide from her until he was sure she would welcome them. All and all her actually agreeing was a much more pleasurable scenario than any of his back-up plans.

A small ghost of a smile played around the edges of her lips as her fingers traced her father's name on the missive. He was enticed by the expression. She was often so serious and rarely gave herself a chance to enjoy anything. One night, maybe three days into their whirlwind romance in Winterfell, she told him that she found it difficult to let herself believe anything good could happen to her. 

_“I'm not used to it,” she whispered as he kissed the freckles on the bare shoulder his chin was leaning on. The hairs of his beard were already leaving marks all over her creamy skin. Marks he loved leaving and she seemed to enjoy receiving. “Good things do not happen to me. I watch from a distance while they happen to others. Jaime... I do not know how to act right now.”_

_He sighed, “You can act however you want to. No one is here to judge you, Brienne. I just want to be with you.” Her fingers slid up his right arm from stump to elbow and back again. “You know you took my breath away when you smiled at me after I knighted you.” Her eyes caught his. “I want to see that smile more.”_

_Her eyelids slid down and she looked at him through her eyelashes. It would be coy on someone more experienced in the ways of seduction, but he knew her, and he knew she was just shy about what they were to each other in that moment. They weren't enemies as they had started, they weren't merely confidantes traveling together, they weren't just battle companions- they were more. They were so much more. And then she smiled at him._

That's when he realized he was lost. In that very moment, with her blonde hair falling into her eyes and her cheeks flushing with happiness, he was _lost_. He had kissed her until the air had left both their lungs and they had to break apart for fear of dying from lack of oxygen. He had taken his time that night to bring that smile forth as much as possible. He had whispered in her ear, nipped at the skin at the base of her neck, kissed his way down her toned and powerful body, made her come apart with his hand, his tongue and his cock. They had spent hours wrapped up in each other. In their hideaway, locked in that room.

It was new to Jaime. All his life, he had fucked. It was about the culmination. That intense peak with as little build up as possible. It was because making love took time- time was _the_ one thing that Jaime and Cersei never had. Their unions were always rushed, even when they were young; some part of their brains told them that it was something to hide and be quick about- hands grabbing, lips fusing to stifle moans and sighs, bodies grinding together. Nothing was gentle.

Every night with Brienne was gentle. Even when the heat of passion became too much and they tumbled together, needing nothing more than to be joined in the most intimate way; it was always done with a softness and care that he had never experienced before. It shook him. Ripped his defenses away and left him vulnerable. It was _terrifying_. That's what he had thought about after the first time, while he had laid watching her sleep, he had thought about how scary it was to be with her. She was pure and he was damaged. He knew that she gave herself to him and he also knew he would ruin her. Her heart was his salvation and his damnation.

And in the end he had been a coward. He told Brienne loving Cersei was never easy, and that was true, but loving _Brienne_ was like falling head first into the unknown. Even with the knowledge that he would be safe in her embrace, he couldn't trust it. Eventually she would have seen him for who he truly was. She would have seen the crippled monster underneath the perfect face. When she never did, when she continued to believe in him blindly; he forced her to open her eyes and destroyed his chance at contentment with it.

This time, however, he was going to relish being with her. He was going to embrace the fear. He was going to savor the pleasure of having her at his side. He was going to marry her. Jaime was going to love her the right way. He took her hand in his and kissed her dirt covered knuckles. Her cheeks blazed as her incredible eyes widened. Jaime grinned at her before walking to the door of the cell and pounding roughly on the wood to get one of the guards attention. 

“You,” he hollered. “Bring the keys and uncuff her,” he turned back to Brienne. “She is to be released into my care.” The guard, a boy really, fresh faced and green, opened the cell; looking between the two. Jaime's eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a dangerously low octave. “Uncuff her.”

“Lord Tywin-” the boy stuttered, obviously trying not to get caught in the power struggle between two powerful Lannisters. Jaime almost pitied him. Almost. “He was quite clear that Lady Brienne,” he shot a look at the woman, “was to be shackled until the verdict could be reached.”

Jaime took a slow step toward him. He gave the guard credit, he only shook a little at Jaime advancing on him, “You will release Lady Brienne into my care at once. She is to be my Lady wife and if you value your life you will do as I say.” The young guard shot another look at Brienne. His eyes were wide and disbelieving. Jaime fought the very real desire to punch the kid. He was following orders. Jaime understood that. He has been following his father's orders for most of his damned life. “Do-”

“Release her as my son commands,” the unmistakable voice of Tywin Lannister interrupted whatever threat was about to tumble from his lips. The guard snapped to attention and quickly inserted the key into the iron manacles around Brienne's wrists. She rubbed at the skin. Tywin's green eyes were cold as he looked over the two. Jaime instinctively moved closer to her, shielding her with his body. He watched his father's gaze sharpen. “So she agreed.”

Jaime nodded tersely. “She did.” He looked back at his betrothed and smiled for her; only for her. “We wish to be wed as soon as the arrangements can be made.” Her blue orbs narrowed at him, but there was a curious twitch around the corners of her mouth. He winked at her quickly; he felt foolish and light even though he wasn't safe to do so. The two of them needed to get the hell out of King's Landing. Away from those who would harm them, harm _her_.

“Do you agree to a small, quick affair, Lady Brienne,” Tywin addressed her with chilling calmness. 

“I would,” she said, her voice mirroring his in the tone she spoke. Mad or thoughtless, she did not show fear in front of his father. She should, but she refused to, and Jaime found another reason to add to the seemingly endless pile of reasons to love her. “I have never envisioned myself at the center of a large celebration. I would only become awkward in such a setting,” her mouth twisted, not in a grimace, but in a wise expression- understanding her place in this game- if only a small part of it. “It is best to make this a swift union, especially if you wish for Lord Jaime to be back at Casterly Rock by the first touches of winter. There is much to do and a short amount of time.” He knew she was thinking of Sansa, but his father... 

The patriarch of the Lannister's family eyed her with more interest. That made Jaime uncomfortable and his latent rage at what his father had done to her boiled back up to the surface. “You have the right of it, Lady Brienne.” He turned to his son, an unfamiliar gleam in his eyes. “I shall see that the servants arrange a room near your quarters, Jaime.” He nodded at Brienne and left them. 

The little hairs on Jaime's arms stood up. Something new was happening. Before Brienne was merely a pawn in Tywin's game of control, but Jaime had seen something in his eyes when she talked about the Rock. Something that could only spell trouble for them in the end.

<<>><<>>

Cersei was positively vibrating with anger when he saw her later that night after taking Brienne to her new chambers, which were only a few doors down from his. Before leaving her to the bath he had brought up for her, he had promised that they would be away from this wretched place soon. Her eyes were warm as she nodded and said those words that sent his heart racing and his stomach tightening, “I trust you.”

Now he was standing in front of another woman whose expression was one of unadulterated ire. He sighed. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation. “Dear sister,” he spoke with no joy in his voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“That _cow_ ,” she hissed at him. Her hands curling at her sides. “Are you truly so desperate you are going to wed that beast? The thing that killed _our_ son and you have left the Kingsguard when Tommen is about to take the throne.”

He couldn't help but hear the madness in her words. Her mind fracturing into pieces. She was seeing enemies in every shadow. _Like Aerys._

“Careful sweet sister,” he growled at her. His lips pulling back to reveal his teeth. “She is to be your good sister. And you know she did not kill Joffrey. She was in the black cells at the time and too honest by half to even think about doing it to begin with. As for Tommen, he will be placed in good hands. There is too much blood on mine.”

“Fool,” she walked toward him. Green fire in her eyes, “Your place is here with me and our children. Myrcella has been taken from me by our horrid brother and father and now you are placing our youngest in his hands. Father will destroy him.”

 _No sweet sister,_ Jaime thought with pain radiating through him. The image of their young, too fucking young, son crumbled at the base of the Red Keep. His strikingly blonde hair covered in crimson. _You will._

“Father will not lose the crown. Keeping Tommen safe will be his paramount priority.” He paused then said, “Brienne gone from your sight is what you want, isn't it?”

“You actually believe you are saving her?” She shook her head, “You know accidents happen all the time, in all sorts of places. And she is such a lumbering thing.” 

“Threatening my betrothed to my face,” he stared down at her. “Is that wise?”

“You almost act like you love her,” her laugh was as sharp as the sword that hung at his hip. “You always were the stupidest Lannister. She is nothing, dear brother. Even if you try to convince yourself differently.” Her breath warmed the skin at the nape of his neck. He shuddered. He wasn't immune to her. He doubted he ever will be. Years of love and need didn't just disappear into nothing because another claimed a good portion of his heart. Brienne would have nothing to worry about though, he knew, because even if he still felt something, it was not the maddening spiral he used to experience. It was more like an echo in a cave, there but moving further away. “You always did have a soft spot for the monsters of the world. First Tyrion and now _her_.”

“Our brother is not nor has he ever been a monster,” he was so fucking tired of her hatred for their little brother. “As for Brienne,” he paused, he didn't know how to describe her without sounding like Florian the fool. Forgoing any words that could lead to Cersei being more of a threat to his future wife, he shrugged. “I will need a wife and frankly, she's the only one who interests me. All the others father would throw at my feet would be boring to say the least.”

Her face changed, became thoughtful and less enraged. “You are using her to thwart father from making a match such as mine.” She turned away from him and paced, amusement at her epiphany coloring her cheeks in a light flush. “Maybe I have underestimated you dear brother. Maybe you haven't lost all your good sense after all.” 

Jaime's brain was waging a war with his tongue. The smart part of him was cheering at her foolish assumption. Let her believe that Brienne was a cover and not who he wanted to be with. It would make getting her out of this viper's pit much easier and would keep Cersei from doing something truly insane. His hand clenched at his side, the knuckles of his right hand brushing the cold metal of his sword. But his heart and tongue wanted nothing more than to contradict her. Those parts of him wanted her to know that his betrothed was more than just a body to ward off his father's matchmaking. That truthfully it had everything to do with the fact that he could not imagine his life without her. Or rather he could, and that was not a road he wanted to travel again. The Warrior sent him back to right his wrongs and to choose a better path. Every part of him knew Brienne was the one he was meant to be with. That she was the person who made him happier than he had ever believed he could be. Happier than he believed he should be. 

He settled on a half truth, a white lie that might buy them time. “My senses have never left me sweet sister. She does not deserve to have her head removed from her body for the crime of looking too long in my direction,” his eyes locked with hers and she arches her brow, “and I need a wife. Nothing more has happened, despite the rumors to the contrary.”

Her smile turned to a smirk, “How will you bring yourself to bed such a creature?” _Quite easily, _he thought with a rush of desire. “Will you blow out all the candles and close your eyes tightly as you try to push your cock into her cunt?” He doesn't say anything. The heat of his wrath at her words was intensifying but if he gave her anything... “I feel sorry for you.”__

__“Do not pity me,” he snapped. Taking a calming breath he smiled at her. “You should worry about your own nuptials.”_ _

__“Willas Tyrell is a weak cripple,” she waved her hand. “It will be no bother to get rid of him. Really father showed a remarkable lack of foresight in this union.”_ _

__Her callousness was nothing he was unfamiliar with but he actually felt a rush of sympathy for the Tyrell. From everything Jaime had heard, the boy was kind and studious. He was being handed off to a woman who would eat him alive and spit out his bones. She looked at him as if expecting him to smirk or laugh or kiss her wicked mouth. He didn't do any of those, just nodded his head._ _

__“I'm glad you are not losing sleep over it,” he sarcastically remarked. “You do so need your beauty sleep, you are looking a little old I would say.” She swung her hand toward his face and he caught it with practiced ease. “Now, sweet sister,” he purred in her ear. “Do you really want to mar my pretty face?”_ _

__“Maybe you need a few blemishes, dear brother,” she smirked. “ _Lady_ Brienne might kiss them and make them better. Would you like that? Her big, fish lips upon your reddened flesh?”_ _

__He nearly laughed, because yes, he would in fact love to have her lips on him. He held back the pleased chuckle. “Maybe I would.” Jaime danced along the blade's edge, tempting fate with his words. He had just told himself to play the game and here he was fucking up the board. “It might be a pleasure to have an innocent mouth around my cock. I haven't had one of them in so very long...” he looked her up and down critically. “If ever.”_ _

__Her eyes were back to flashing murder and he knew he had fallen off the edge. He cursed his barbed tongue. If he had just kept her thinking that Brienne was simply a way to maneuver around their meddling father..._ _

__Her mouth pulled tight, “Accidents happen dear brother. Remember that.”_ _

_You should too,_ he watched her leave the room and ran a hand down his face. 

__< <>><<>>_ _

__Tommen was innocent and sweet. It was hard to believe that he came from the union of him and his sister. Jaime watched his youngest boy run through the stables, chasing his kittens. Every time he managed to capture one, he took the tiny ball of fur and cradled it close to his chest, burying his tiny nose into the fur at the top of the cat's head. The gentleness he showed the small animals was more than Jaime could handle. His son was like Brienne in some ways. Too good for this place, too innocent for the ways of court._ _

__For all the things Cersei had gotten wrong during their discussion, the one thing she got right was Tommen's need for protection. He couldn't leave his son here. He couldn't have his youngest boy meet the same fate as the one in his previous life. Cersei and Tywin, especially, would see him as weak and would use that against him. They would crush his goodness and leave him a mangled bitter mess._ _

__Myrcella was free. His brother had the right idea in getting her away. Now it was Tommen's turn. A figure came up to stand near him._ _

__“It's a bit creepy isn't it? You staring at your _nephew_ ,” Bronn eyed him._ _

__“Did you do what I asked,” Jaime continued to watch the laughing child._ _

__“Aye,” the sellsword nodded. “About lost my head, but its done.” The other man smiled at him. “I do hope you pay me well before you meet a gruesome end.” Jaime didn't answer in words, just pulled out the purse filled with gold dragons and handed it to the paid sword. Bronn shook the pouch and grinned. “Pleasure doing business with ya. If you see your brother in your travels, do tell the little fucker I miss having him around, but I don't miss sharing the whores.”_ _

__Jaime nodded then left to find Brienne. They needed to discuss their wedding and what needed to be done next._ _

__< <>><<>>_ _


	13. Say Yes To the Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Genna pulled her needle through the material as she sat by Jaime in Brienne's room. She tutted at him each time he tried to get up and go see what was happening with his betrothed. He looked at her and she arched an eyebrow at him, her mouth set in a perfect line. He settled back down feeling a bit like a child who couldn't have a cookie..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all that commented on the last chapter! I am continually amazed by your words and I love hearing your thoughts. I'm sorry it's taking me so long to update- I have been ill and have been writing other stories for this wonderful couple. I'm planning on trying to set a schedule for myself soon so that the chapters will be out in a more timely manner. 
> 
> Once again thank you to my beta- merrymaya for putting up with me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> <<>><<>>

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48043106187/in/dateposted/)

Beautiful art by Ro Nordmann: Thank you so very much

<<>><<>>

Genna pulled her needle through the material as she sat by Jaime in Brienne's room. She tutted at him each time he tried to get up and go see what was happening with his betrothed. He looked at her and she arched an eyebrow at him, her mouth set in a perfect line. He settled back down feeling a bit like a child who couldn't have a cookie... Brienne's silhouette shifted uneasily as she was draped in material and the small woman at her feet, sighed.

“Please, m'lady,” her voice was muffled, Jaime assumed she must have pins in her mouth. “Ya must stay still. I don't wanna prick you.”

“Yes, wench,” he called out from his spot, “save the pricking for me on our wedding night.” She let out a growl at that and Genna pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing.

“Really Jaime!” she eyed him, her expression was all playful exasperation. “You shouldn't be such a rogue with her. Let the poor girl be.”

“Oh, my darling Aunt Genna,” he smiled at her. “My betrothed is more than capable of taking care of herself, right, sweetling?” He said loudly in Brienne's direction.

Jaime tried not to smile too largely at her obvious discomfort from behind the partition. She was probably shooting daggers at him from her azure eyes from where she stood with her arms outstretched. He had no doubt she was planning on using Oathkeeper on him as soon as they were alone. He had already talked to his father about returning the sword back to its rightful owner. Tywin had agreed, but only after she was officially a Lannister. Jaime was sure other terms would be forced on him before the valyrian steel was back in his hands so he could return it to hers.

He has already been informed by his father about his duties to Casterly Rock and to the family were to take precedence over everything. Meaning- an heir must be produced and quickly. Jaime didn't find that to be as much of a duty as a pleasure- but he wasn't sure how Brienne would feel about it. He was planning to bring it up with her in private after the fitting. If they could have a moment in private.

It had taken a little bit of maneuvering and a whole lot of cajoling to let him stay during the fitting. The one condition- which everyone agreed upon- was having someone else in the room. Genna volunteered to be their chaperon almost immediately. He got the feeling she wanted to see who exactly it was that her nephew was bringing into the Lannister brood. He was not surprised that his aunt seemed to take a shine to Brienne right away. Genna was known for her ability to read people quickly. Jaime did, however, feel ridiculous at having to be watched with the woman he was to marry, but her innocence and reputation were on the line, so he gave in.

Beside she was uncomfortable enough with him possibly seeing her so close to being naked, it was only after she remembered he has already seen her thus- while she was sick at the Inn- that she relaxed a little. In the end, he still had to promise to avert his eyes when she stripped and he had done as she had wished... mostly... and if he had peeked once or twice she would never know... Genna did. She shook her head at him, amused by her nephew's obvious feelings for the tall warrior.

Now as the seamstress moved around her, he tried his best to support her, but he was, ultimately, having too much fun teasing his giantess while she was forced to stay still. The giddiness he felt at knowing he would soon have her was exhilarating. It was like being drunk on the sweetest wine. It buzzed in his veins making everything seem brighter. He really couldn't do anything about how happy he was. Yes, the situation was still tense, Cersei was circling and his father was waiting in the wings to take Brienne to the gallows, but he was _marrying_ her and that sent a thrill through his body. Brienne jumped and let out a yelp of pain when a pin was inserted.

Genna winced at the sound. “Are you okay dear?” Her eyes never leaving her needle point.

“Yes, My Lady,” Brienne answered quickly.

Jaime reached over to the small table next to him and took a small chunk of salty cheese from the plate. He placed it on his tongue, chewing slowly as his mind wandered to his nuptials. It was only a sennight and a half away until they would say their vows. Guests had been arriving steadily throughout the week and the ship from Tarth was expected soon. Brienne was anxious about her father coming. They hadn't seen each other in many moon turns and she told him that she never thought a wedding would be the reason for their reunion.

It was a little shocking to him that he was this excited by the prospect of taking a wife. He had never thought to have one before- in either life- as an adult. When he was young, before the Kingsguard, he had known it would be his duty to produce an heir as Lord of Casterly Rock, he had known his father had organized matches for him. But he was always too busy with Tyrion or Cersei or in the practice yard to contemplate being someone's Lord husband. The only time he really gave the archaic custom serious consideration was with his sweet sister. He would have married her. He would have said those vows as a _fuck you_ to society and all it's restrictions on love.

Looking back on those thoughts he had to wonder, what in the seven hells he was thinking? The relationship between them would have rotted them both and caused more harm in the long run. It had already caused harm. He nearly killed a child, he helped start a war and his _son_ had ended up being a monster. Nothing good came from them- with the possible exception Myrcella and Tommen. Cersei's unfaithfulness- he tried not to wonder how many men she slept with without his knowledge- and his own self-hatred combined and twisted. It was a selfish, shortsighted love that left destruction in its wake.

Other than those moments of madness, he would have never considered himself the marrying kind, it was a dream for others. Most unions, he had witnessed in court and out of it, ended up with one party miserable and the other whoring around. The man being the most likely to be a whore- even if no one would call him such- while the woman was shackled to a home with kids pulling at her skirts. Happiness was rare, a true love match was rarer still. And even if the match was deemed successful, heartbreak still loomed. Women died in the birthing bed, as his had and hers; men died in war and children- children died in multiple ways which would leave parents devastated. Like Cersei was over Joffrey. Her grief adding to her slowly declining mental health.

Jaime's removal from the Kingsguard came with the added benefit of being away during her more manic episodes. Tywin kept her on a short leash as well. He was not about to let his daughter ruin his plans. Their father was very aware of the sharks circling them waiting for blood to spill into the water. Under his watch, Tywin would not let that happen.

The notion of marrying Cersei was also a shield because it would never happen- both because no septon worth his title would decree the union anything but an abomination. And because his father would have shipped him off to the wall before he could step one foot in the holy place. It was a child's fantasy that he could indulge in, like those foolish women who thought about him while dreaming of an honorable white knight before everything happened with Aerys. He knew deep down he would never say vows to her, so there was never any real concern. Being a member of the Kingsguard was just an added layer of protection against the bonds of marriage. He got to bed his sister as he always wanted, live his dream of being a knight and never be chained to someone boring and bothersome.

It was not ideal, but at the time, he believed it to be what he wanted. Brienne changed his perspective on so many things. But especially on this. Even before the trial which led him to reliving his life- little thoughts would float into his mind. In his dreams, he saw her smiling at him while he swore to be true to only her and she returned those words that he knew would be true fidelity- he would never have to doubt her. He would imagine her holding his babe as he caressed the soft warm cheek- his vision always had the baby being a girl with blonde hair and rich blue eyes to match her mother's. He could envision them growing old- him older than her- in a simple home surrounded by love. Jaime knew in his heart theirs would be a union filled with passion- theirs would be one of the rare ones.

In Winterfell, some of those dreams became reality. He got to wake up to her skin pressed against his, her hair tickling his chin as she snuggled closer. He got a taste of domestic peace and he threw it away. He stifled a frustrated, annoyed sigh. He was so stupid. It's a wonder the Warrior gave him a second chance at all. He certainly didn't deserve it, but Jaime wasn't about to waste the opportunity.

Another hiss of pain brought him back to the present where his betrothed was rubbing at her side. The young seamstress looked up at the giantess, “Please M'Lady, 'm asking ye stop 'er movin' and I won't be stickin' ya. I don't wanna hurt ya. Or ruin the material ya'r betrothed has bought ya for ya'r gown.”

Jaime couldn't take it any longer and jumped up to see her. He looked back at Genna, who rolled her eyes and waved her hand in his direction. Coming around the corner of the divider, he had to stop himself from grinning too hard. The blue was going to look stunning on her, the perfect shade to match those incredible eyes. His gaze slowly moved up her body, taking in the way the fabric hung and folded. He tried to imagine the finished product but all he could think about was seeing it crumbled on the floor next to their bed.

When his eyes finally made it to hers, Brienne shot him a glare. He smiled placidly back at her, “You heard her. Stop moving so much and it will be done quicker. Isn't that what you want, my sweetling?”

Her mouth thinned. The curse she wanted to throw in his direction clearly seen in the flare of her eyes. Oh! He was going to pay for that comment tonight when they arrived at their spot on the beach to spar. He laughed in his head, he was looking forward to it. “Why are you even here, _ser_? I do not believe watching me get my bridal dress made is very entertaining.”

_Ooh, on the contrary, wench, it's very entertaining indeed._

He opened his mouth to speak but was stopped by Genna coming around to his side. “Must you be so irksome.” She pulled him back to the other side of the partition, pushing him back to the chaise he was on before. His Aunt looked at Brienne in apology for his behavior, “I'm sorry about my nephew's behavior, dear heart. He really can be vexing at times.”

“Yes, My Lady, he can be that,” Brienne sounded like she was trying to hold in a smile, maybe he wouldn't get pummeled too hard after all.

“I'll do my best to keep him on this side and out of your sight,” she smiled warmly at the taller woman. “Such a pretty shade of blue. It will make your eyes very bright indeed.” Her head turned toward Jaime. “I must begrudgingly praise you for picking the perfect color. Well done, Jaime.” The plump woman quickly back handed the compliment with, “At least you did something right without mucking it up. Now leave her be!”

Jaime sighed, knowing his play time with his wench was over. He took another wedge of cheese from the platter and waited until the seamstress finished with the dress.

<<>><<>>

The rest of the fitting went by without much excitement. Jaime kept his promise and stayed away from Brienne while the servant worked her magic. Genna began dozing at his side, her needle work still on her lap, her head tilted to the side. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. It was hard work keeping so many comments to himself.

The seamstress stood. Her hands on her hips examining her work. “It'll be done in time for the wedding,” she sounded less than thrilled with her the timetable. “I reckon it will be plain, 'm sorry 'bout that. M'Lady and Lord Lannister left very little time for much.” Her voice dropped low and Jaime had to strain to hear what she said to Brienne, “Should I be leaving some room in the middle?”

Jaime couldn't help it. He laughed so hard his sides hurt. Genna woke up with a startled jolt at the noise. Brienne, he had no doubt, was flushing at the idea of her being with child. The quickness of the ceremony had made some people talk he was sure.

“N- n- no,” she stumbled over her words in embarrassment at the insinuation of impropriety. “The middle will be as you see it now.”

“Hmm,” the seamstress nodded. “Once it be sown up, we'll need to do 'nother fitting to make sure it will be comfortable for ye.” She quickly unpinned the material and gathered her stuff, leaving the engaged couple alone with Genna.

Brienne waited until the seamstress was gone and the door was closed before she walked over to the bed, moved the partition and threw a pillow at his head. He dodged it easily still softly chuckling. “You are insufferable.”

He placed the pillow she threw at him behind his head and shrugged nonchalantly, “And soon you will be stuck with me until the Stranger takes me from your loving arms.”

“It might happen on our wedding night,” she grumbled, throwing her shirt on over her under tunic and pulling on a pair of breeches, coming around the divider face him.

“Will you be that aggressive in our martial bed, my wench?” he teased innocently.

“The more you talk, My Lord,” she buckled her sword belt around her hips, he tried not to notice that it wasn't his sword there. That would change on their wedding night, no matter what he had to do, “the more you may come to regret it. You know how well I use a blade.”

The double meaning of her words was completely lost on her. But Jaime couldn't help the dirty thoughts that entered his mind about her handling _his_ sword. She did know how to use a blade well. He remembered how those hands gripped him with just the right tightness and pressure...

Genna laughed at his side, forcing his brain to stop thinking of fucking his lady knight. “I like her. She will keep you in line.”

“Aligning against me I see,” he nodded his head, his grin locked on his lips, “Very well, I will stop with the teasing,” he licked his lips to see her reaction. He wasn't disappointed. Her eyes darkened just a touch and her breathing changed slightly. “Beloved Aunt Genna,” he turned all his charm on her, to which she rolled her eyes. “I was wondering if you would be so kind as to give me a moment alone with my soon to be wife.”

She paused for a beat then nodded quickly. “I will give you some time to talk, but know I will be right outside this door. So do not try anything foolish. You know she has her examination in the morning.”

He looked at Brienne who swallowed roughly. Neither was pleased by this, but it was something which had to be done. Tywin was really making this union difficult and Jaime was not sure why. He was getting what he always wanted- Jaime would take his place at the Rock with a wife and be far away from Kings Landing. He wished he could save Brienne the humiliation of being poked by a stranger to ensure her innocence, but he had very few favors left and he needed to save them for the future.

“I understand and I promise you, nothing will happen,” he smiled his most genuine _trust me_ smile.

Genna nodded again and rose from her chair to exit the room. Jaime waited until the door was firmly shut to turn to Brienne. Her eyes were downcast and she was worrying her bottom lip. “I am sorry you will have to suffer through an examination. Your honor should never be in question. But I fear it is my lack of honor which has led to this embarrassment.”

She shrugged, “It will be fine. We both know you would never want...,” she paused, seemingly at a loss for words, “I mean, you were a member of the kingsguard when we met and there was Cersei...” she stopped again. “I am not really a maid someone like you would want.”

 _Oh you foolish woman_ he thought, _If only you knew how many times I have dreamed of you naked beneath me._ He wished he could tell her that. He knew they were getting closer and maybe soon she would be open to his love for her, but he still got the feeling that now wasn't the time. “Still,” he cleared his throat. “It is not right and I apologize for my father's insistence.”

“It will put both our fathers minds at ease,” she reasoned. “This union is coming together much quicker than most and that usually means a babe is on the way. The seamstress thought as much, even if she was trying to be subtle in her questioning.”

“I am not sure how to approach this topic, but I feel like now might be the best moment to do so, I was wondering about the bedding.” Brienne's mouth tightened. “I only bring it up because a bedding ceremony will be asked of us and my father demands an heir.”

Her complexion turned blotchy. Pale in some parts, red in others. “An..heir... you do not think,” she looked like she was about to pass out. “Jaime... I know that, I mean to say, I understand the duty we have to our families,” she sat on the bed and looked at him helplessly. “I never thought about the ceremony. I...”

“Brienne,” he came to sit on the bed next to her. There was space between them so she wouldn't feel overwhelmed by his presence. Although he wasn't sure if it was working. He was acutely aware of her body and where they were and how much he wanted to kiss her until neither could think straight. He cleared his throat again. “I will not force you to do anything you do not want. I only wanted to make sure you understand...” he paused so she could feel the urgency of his words, “there will be eyes on us. My father will want to know we have consummated our union.” He took her hand in his, he marveled at how they were almost the same size. “I will do everything in my power to make you comfortable. I know that this marriage is not what you wished for yourself.”

Her gorgeous eyes- God those eyes- settle on his. “I have not wanted to be wed to anyone since I realized no one could love me as I am.” He nodded. He understood. “I was betrothed thrice before and all of them were painful experiences which I wish to never think about again. I had given up on ever making a match. So I stopped wanting to be anyone's lady wife. I decided I would be my own white knight instead.” She looked away for a moment. “But,” she continued. “If I must wed, I'm glad it's to you and not someone who would try and make me what I am not.” Her face was Lannister crimson at her admission.

He reached up and tucked some hair behind her ear, she tilted her head toward his touch unconsciously. “Brienne...” he breathed her name, “What you said before...” Her mouth parted. “I would.”

“You would...”

He leaned forward, his lips close to hers. He caressed her cheek bone with his thumb. All his intentions of not telling her how much he desired her went out the window as he felt her angle her body in his direction. She didn't have experience in this, but her instincts knew some of what to do. Her tongue came out to moisten her lips, her eyelids slid half way shut, her pulse jumped under his palm. The signs of her arousal, of her need, as subtle as they were, called to him. His blood rushed through his veins.

“I have thought about laying with you. It would not be unlikely for others to believe it. I suspect some know how I feel.”

“Please Jaime do not say things you do not mean,” she pleaded even as she leaned a little closer to him, tilted her head to make his kiss easier to receive. “You do not have to pretend.”

“Does this feel like pretending,” he asked before he settled his lips on hers in a kiss.

The touch of their mouths was light, brushing softly. He didn't push it. But praise the Seven he wanted to. Her hand came up to touch his neck, her fingers combing the hair at the nape of his neck. Her surprisingly soft body pressed against his and he moaned low in his throat. Jaime needed more, this small touch- it wasn't enough. He lifted his head and looked at her. Her eyes opened slowly. The desire he saw reflected there made him weak. He started to lean back in, taking more of the sweetness she was offering, when the door opened.

They jumped apart after seeing Genna standing there. He didn't have to look over to know that Brienne was red. He couldn't help but think he probably had some extra color in his cheeks as well. He stood from the bed quickly- or as quickly as he could with a hard cock between his legs demanding attention- and walked to the door.

He turned around and looked at his bride to be, “I will see you at supper, Lady Brienne.”

She raised her eyes to his and it took all his willpower not to shove his aunt out the door and climb on top of that innocent woman on the bed. “Yes, Ser Jaime,” she licked her lips. “I will see you then.”

Genna closed the door to Brienne's room once they were both out and she looked at him with barely contained interest. “I never thought I would see the day.” His eyebrows came together in confusion. She smiled softly. “My dear boy, you are completely enamored with that girl.” She took his face between her hands. “Does she have any idea how much you care?”

“I do not think she would believe me if I told her,” he ducked his head. “She does not trust in such emotions easily.”

“Hmm, smart girl.” She sighed. “You will have to be patient. That is not a virtue our family is known for, but if you want her to believe your heart is true, it will take time.”

He listened to her words and nodded. Jaime couldn't have them end on such a sentimental note. It just wasn't them. He smiled winningly at her, “Who knew you were so warmhearted until all that overbearing bluster?”

“Oh you pain in the ass, knave!” she huffed pushing him further away from Brienne's door.

<<>><<>>


	14. Subverting Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The sun set low in the horizon and the moon was already starting to appear faintly. Another day almost done. Another day closer to his wedding. He walked through the court yard on his way to find his bride to be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title a dig at D&D? Why, yes, yes it is. 
> 
> Thank you to all of you that have read, commented and left Kudos. It means the world to me that you are enjoying the story. I hope you like this chapter as well. 
> 
> Big thank you to my beta: merrymaya. She always pushes me to make the story better for you.
> 
> Another big thank you to Ro Nordmann for the beautiful art work. I love it so much and am so in awe of how amazing it is.
> 
> \---*---**---*---

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48043106187/in/dateposted/)

<<>><<>>

The sun set low in the horizon and the moon was already starting to appear faintly. Another day almost done. Another day closer to his wedding. He walked through the court yard on his way to find his bride to be. Brienne was finishing up her evening tea with Olenna and Margaery in the gardens. His curiosity about the meeting was getting to him. Jaime knew that Olenna had something to do with Joffrey's death, even if the rest of Kings Landing was led to believe it was some plot by one of the many enemies of the Crown and of the Lannisters; he didn't want Brienne caught more deeply into this web of deceit. She seemed completely fine with meeting with the Tyrells in fact, her body was at ease speaking of the women.

_“I knew Margaery in Renly's camp,” Brienne reminded him as they talked on the beach after their sparring session. His side was sure to bruise from the amount of times she hit him with the blunt side of her sword. He knew he was not going to be forgiven so easily for the comments made during the fitting that afternoon. Neither brought up the kiss, but Brienne's face flushed when she first saw him and her eyes had sparkled just a little more brightly in his estimation. “She was always kind to me. And Olenna sought me out the night after I was released from the black cells.”_

_This was news to him. He had never heard that the old woman went to see her. As if she could read his mind, her lips pursed together in thought, and his mind was soon focused solely on her mouth. Gods! He wanted to kiss her again- his blood was still running hot from the kiss in her chambers and from the fighting. “I don't think many people knew she saw me.” She brushed some sand from her thigh. “She is very-” she paused trying to come up with the right word. “Intimidating, but I like her and I think she liked me.”_

_“Of course she would,” he couldn't quite keep the fondness out of his voice, “You are quite a formidable woman and she likes that.” She ducked her head, a new blush flooding her cheeks. The sun paled to in comparison to her smile that she hid by biting her lip. He saw it though. He wanted to use his thumb to get her to release the precious gift to him. Instead, he forced himself to rise and hold out his hand to her. “Come,” he said as he helped her get up on the sand, “You don't want to be late for your tea.”_

_“No,” she said, letting go of his hand- he mourned the loss of contact, “I think I may have to change into a dress for this.”_

_He swallowed his grin at her grimace. “I believe,” he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she stiffened for a moment before gradually relaxing. His heart cheered when she didn't pull away. “That you will be welcomed in whatever wears you feel comfortable in.”_

_She shot him a look from the side of her eyes, “You really believe that?”_

_This time he could not hold in the smile, “No, I really do not.”_

_“That is what I thought,” her mouth twisted and she sighed._

_“At least you will be enjoying tea,” he looked at her with sad eyes hoping to get her pity. “I will be with my father, during your time with the women of Highgarden, learning more about the duties which will now fall to me as Lord of the Rock. Tedious. I will be suffering while you enjoy yourself.”_

_She shook her head, her mouth twitching in a small smile, one she was not letting fully form on her lips. Another gift denied to him. “I promise you, my Lord,” her gorgeous blue orbs laughed at him. He decided that was almost as good as a smile. “You will make it out of those meetings without many wounds.”_

_“But you admit I might be wounded.” Brienne shrugged, still holding in a smile. “Will you kiss them and take the hurt away?”_

_“If you get injured my Lord,” she shot him a quick look before turning to face away from him. “I will be sure to get the best maesters in all of Kings Landing to tend to your broken body.” She turned back to him again and laughed at his expression._

Jaime smiled at the sight of her walking in his direction. She comprised on her outfit, wearing a light cotton tunic and a pair of split pants to get out of wearing a dress. He opened his mouth to call out to her but stopped and felt his blood run cold as he watched Cersei intercept Brienne and pull her aside in the court yard. He instinctively touched his sword as he walked swiftly over to the two women. His heart thundered in his chest. He didn't believe his sister would hurt his betrothed in public... had she been in her right mind. But these days Cersei seemed to be one push away from doing something horrific. And Brienne was the one most likely to be hurt when that push came. He was not about to let that happen. Not while he had breath in his lungs.

His twin patted the tall woman's arm and began speaking softly to her. Brienne held herself rigid, her posture respectful but closed off. He could see her face was tight with discomfort. Jaime moved a little faster, he did not want to leave her alone any longer with his sister. He made it to where they stood in time to hear the final part of the conversation.

“...I know it is extremely uncomfortable so I hope this will bring you some solace,” Cersei smiled at her. The expression was false and seemed slightly sinister to Jaime. Brienne's eyes caught his and his sister turned to face him. “Oh hello, dear brother,” her green gaze was manic. 

“Cersei,” he kept his voice even. It took great effort on his part. “What were you discussing with my betrothed?”

She waved her hand in a dismissive manner, “It was nothing to concern yourself with. It was a private matter between two women. Isn't that right, Lady Brienne?”

The taller woman's eyes flickered to his before returning to the queen regent's and nodded her head, “Yes, your Grace.”

If his blood was cold before, it was ice now. He moved closer to Brienne, “I am glad to see you being so welcoming to your soon to be good sister, Cersei.” He noticed a tiny twitch in her expression. The mask was slipping more and more to him. He could see all he had ignored or explained away. He tried to ease even more firmly in front of his bride to be, creating a wall between the two women. He did not question that Brienne could take care of herself, but he wanted his sister to know without a doubt that he was going to protect the woman behind him. This was playing with wildfire and the torch was already lit in his sister's hand. “I do hope you understand,” he took Brienne's hand and placed it on his arm. “But we must be going.” He looked at the taller woman and told her with his eyes to play her part. “Aunt Genna has asked for your presence in her chambers. She sent me to bring you to her. You have made quite an impression on her.” 

_Not all lies, not all truths._ It was a good balance. Genna was intrigued by her and if he took her to his aunt right now, he knew he would be pushed from the room so that she could have the giantess to herself. His dear aunt would love nothing more than to question the woman he was about to wed. His aunt's clever mind was already coming up with ideas where they were concerned. If he didn't know his relative so well, he would be nervous at the way her green eyes glinted at him when Brienne was brought up in conversation.

“Oh! well Ser Jaime, it is best not to keep your aunt waiting,” she turned her attention to Cersei. “Thank you for your advice, your Grace... and for your concern. It is very kind of you.”

Cersei's smile was like a knife's blade, cold and sharp. “As my dear brother said, you are about to be my good sister.” Jaime could see all the subtle and not so subtle tells of her anger, her madness. Her fists opened and closed quickly. The vein in her neck became a little more pronounced. While the edges of her mouth tightened just a touch. He had looked at her face- so much like his own- so many times, he knew when her rage was barely contained. He had seen it before, but this was more intense and more focused. It made him antsy. “I only hope we can be friends and eventually true sisters.”

“That is my hope as well, your Grace,” Brienne bowed and did a small curtsy, remembering how Joffrey and Cersei reacted on that first day. Jaime was proud of her. She knew the dangerous spot she was in and was doing a better job than him at navigating the choppy waters. “Good evening, your Grace.”

“Sweet sister,” he bowed his head as well and then led Brienne away from the seething blonde. Once he was sure they were out of her range of hearing he leaned in close, “What was that conversation really about?”

She bit her lip, her eyes were wide, “She was...” her head turned back to the way they came, her body was tense. “She said she had personally picked out a septa that she trusted to do...” Brienne's face flushed a bright red. “To do the examination.”

“You don't trust her?” it was a test. He needed to be sure that Brienne was fully aware of Cersei's slide into madness. 

“I do not,” his lady warrior confirmed vehemently. “Do you?”

He shook his head, his mind already working on this new problem. “I do not. We need someone who can be there with you. Someone we trust.” 

“You have someone in mind?”

“Yes,” he took her hand and held it tightly in his. “I think we need to see my aunt after all.”

<<>><<>>

Genna looked at the couple in front of her with shrewd and calm eyes. Her fingernails tapped on the table they were sitting at in her bedchamber as she thought about what they told her. Jaime waited, as composed as he could. He felt Brienne's nervousness. Her hands gripped the chair's arms tightly. He reached under the table and touched her wrist for just a moment, just letting her know that he was going to protect her. Even if this plan with Genna didn't work, even if he had to find another way. He would not let Cersei get away with harming her.

“If what you are saying is true,” she clasped her hands together over her plump stomach, just below her large bosom. “Cersei is planning for something to happen during your exam. Is this correct?”

“Yes, my Lady,” Brienne replied. Her voice was quiet but without any signs of the anxiousness he knew she felt. “She has-” she stopped and looked at him. He nodded to her. Holding back now would get them no where. “She has tried in the past... to harm me.”

“To kill her,” Jaime corrected. His insides were turning to ice for the second time at the thought. If Brienne hadn't stopped the assassin... he tried to shake that idea from his mind. She did stop the kid. She was still beside him. That's all that mattered.

“Is that why my dear brother has been keeping her _so_ busy?” She posed the question to both, but her eyes were on his. He swallowed at the look. She knew. She didn't have even a tiny bit of uncertainty in her gaze. Somehow, she _knew_. He bowed his head a little. Jaime was ashamed. He had never been mortified by Cersei and his relationship before. But now, with Brienne at his side and Genna in front of him, he felt the emotion. He didn't care for it in the least. “Why would my lovely niece want to cause pain to Brienne? Why would she wish her dead?”

“She is jealous,” he admitted meeting her gaze again. 

“Yes,” Genna nodded her head. “Cersei has always been possessive of what she thinks of as hers.” The older woman unclasped her hands and leaned forward. “You have always been her favorite possession Jaime. Your father is unseeing to what you two have been doing, wittingly so. He does not want nor care to know. I, myself, have fallen into the trap of denial. But Cersei making such a bold move against your betrothed...” She shook her head, “She always did have more than one foolish bone in her body. Neither of you have been the most discrete, Jaime. Rumors have reached my ears and many others as well. Stannis, the great tickle brained ass, has used them to stake a claim on the iron throne. I have, also, not yet lost my sight. I can see your sister slipping into madness.” She locked Brienne in her focused stare. “I take it you know about their...” she pursed her lips. “Closeness.”

“I do,” the blonde at his side touched his wrist this time. Her thumb grazing over his skin, leaving a pleasant tingling behind. 

His aunt looked down for a moment before seemingly coming to a conclusion. “I will go with you tomorrow, child and make sure that whomever Cersei has deemed suitable to exam you will not touch you.” Relief flooded through his body. “You do realize, that you subverting her, will only make her more determined the next time.”

“We will just have to keep our guards up until Brienne and I can make it to the Rock and away from Kings Landing.”

“Oh my dear precious boy,” Genna sighed. “I'm afraid it will take more than simple distance to quell her anger and plans. She is determined. And a determined Cersei is always a volatile one.”

Jaime tried not to see the wisdom of that, but, unfortunately for him, denying the truth of his sweet sister's derangement was becoming more and more difficult. How he did it before- in his other life- he knew not. He was just aware this time though the lies were harder to believe and the facts were too big to ignore.

 _The mind can play tricks when the heart wants so badly to believe._ That's what the Mother told him about Cersei and the baby. It applied to him as well... or at least it did before...

<<>><<>>

“...winter is close at hand,” Tywin told him as they sat in the Hand of the King's solar. On the table before them were ledgers filled with Casterly Rock's financial records for the past calendar year. The sun was just beginning to rise and they have already been going over these issues for an hour. “You will need to sure up supplies. And there has been talk of the mines not producing gold any longer, this is more than mere rumor, so taxing the people of the Rock to pay the debt owed to the Crown will be necessary.”

“There must be other revenues to acquire the funds without adding more taxes to the people, father,” he looked over the books of numbers in front of him. His head was beginning to swim with all the information and he desperately wished Tyrion was here. His little brother would have been much more suited to this and he knew that given the chance, he would have turned Casterly Rock back to greatness. “The poor of Kings Landing have started to get restless, fights breaking out due to lack of food and the over taxing, I do not think causing the same at the Rock would be wise.”

“What do you suggest then,” Tywin leaned back in his chair, challenging his son. “If not taxing, how do you think we will recoup the money owed? The gold mines are running low, some are completely empty. The ports are bringing in supplies but with nothing to export, that will soon cease as well.”

Jaime was not sure what to answer. He had never thought about it before because there was no reason to. He looked at the ledger on the table again. There were many more negatives than positives next to the numbers. It was not quite a critical situation yet, but it was heading in that direction. Even with his limited understanding of Lordly duties, he could see that.

“I need to think about it father,” he admitted, for once not fearing the act being one of weakness. This wasn't just him he was thinking of, but the people he would now have to guide through the upcoming seasons. “I will not put the people of Casterly at risk by making foolish and rash decisions.”

“This is not something you can put off.” His father leaned forward in his chair, crowding Jaime even with the table between them. “Once you are married and take over, this will be your responsibility. Yours and your bride's. You must come up with a solution or begin raising the taxes. Speaking of your betrothed...” His father pressed his lips together in a tight line. “I have seen you two fighting on the beach. That will be stopped immediately. A lady of the Rock will not be sword fighting.”

Jaime's blood temperature rose at his father's words. He would not take the sword out of Brienne's hand. That was never going to happen. Her passion and joy stemmed from being able to defend herself and those she deemed worthy. He told her he would never change her. He will not go back on that promise now.

“No,” Jaime said with conviction. “I will not force her to be some weak wallflower. She is a powerful fighter and used those skills to get me here, back to our family.” He jabbed the table with his pointer finger, “I have given up a lot for your plans of the future. I refuse to make Brienne do the same. She will be a lady who has a giving heart. And a warrior who has more honor in her hand than most people do in their entire bodies. She will use her strength to protect the rock, to protect our family, your future grandchildren will never fear harm. If you deem her unworthy of the Rock because of that, then I do not think we have anything more to discuss.”

He got up from the chair, trying to stand on shaky legs. His heart was racing. What had he just done? If his father took Brienne back to the black cells... if he-

“She can train.” He turned back to the older man still sitting. Jaime nodded, relieved. He walked to the door and put his hand on the latch. “Jaime.” He looked over his shoulder. Tywin leaned back in his chair again, his expression neutral but Jaime knew there was always something going on in his mind. “You care for her. That is a weakness people can use. Be careful who is aware of it.”

He didn't know if that was sage advice or a veiled threat. He took it as both. With his father saying it, it was probably both anyway.

<<>><<>>

The morning passed quickly enough, looking over the books again after leaving his father made his head hurt. It was strange to have a different routine, have a different mind set. He was still getting used to not being a member of the Kingsguard. He watched as the white cloaks walked around the castle. Moving from one duty to the next. Jaime felt naked without his armor at times. It had been a part of him for over half his life. He wondered if Ser Barristan had had moments where he had felt like he was missing a piece of himself. That man had worn the Kingsguard cloak longer than Jaime.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he walked into the Sept of Baelor. Joffrey's body was finally being entombed now that the stone workers had designed a statue for the young king. The effigy made of marble had made Cersei weep all over again. He held his breath in his lungs for a beat before letting it back out again. It had been on the tip of his tongue to suggest burning the body. He remembered all to clearly the sight of friends and allies waking from death to come take them down. Seeing men he knew and had just talked with, had fought beside, take up arms against him was chilling.

The fear he had felt in those moments, with the dead hands clawing at his clothes and the unnatural blue eyes staring at him, eclipsed any he had ever faced on the battlefield before. When he hadn't been aware of walking corpses, it had been easy to fight. He knew in his gut that when he cut down a foe, it was for good. The death would be a true one. It hadn't been the case in Winterfell. 

He recalled the heart-stopping sounds of people screaming for their lives, of Brienne being taken over. When he had seen her swarmed under the wave of mindless fiends, he hadn't been able think. His heart had jumped into his throat and he acted on instinct. Save her. Get her free. Help her live. She can't die. She had to go on. Thoughts paraded through his mind about how much he needed her in the world. Without her, nothing was worth anything. 

It was that motivation which had driven him to swing his sword a little harder, fight with more passion. He had echoed her grunts of rage. On the wall, surrounded by friends and one time adversaries, she had returned the act. She had saved him. She had rushed from the sea of dead and had plucked him to safety. Then they had danced. Back to back. In perfect synchronization. He had never felt so connected to anyone. To him, it felt like he had found the other half of his soul, the part he hadn't known was missing, but had been so relieved to have back. Brienne had fought the same way she made love, with every ounce of her spirit.

He did not know if anything would be different this time around. Nothing was the same in _this_ life. He had no way of knowing if the Night King would advance on Winterfell and take it over- would Arya still kill him or would they all perish? Would Kings Landing make it out untouched by the Ice King, the citizens unaware of the horrors beyond the wall? The haunting thoughts were nagging him and it made his skin crawl thinking about his _son_ possibly being a puppet for the cold master of death. He knew he could never make the suggestion to burn all the dead, but he really wanted to torch them until nothing was left but ash.

He walked to the Warrior's statue and bowed his head. He didn't pray as much as question. Was he doing the right things? Was this what the Warrior envisioned when he sent him back? Was he making different, more grave mistakes? He wished he could know for sure that he was righting some of his many wrongs.

One of the Septon came to stand at his side. The man was round faced and squat. Unlike the masses who were struggling to find food for themselves and their babes, this man of faith did not appear to miss many meals. Jaime felt a strong wave of bitterness about that. Weren't the ones who preached to the people about being faithful and good supposed to give to those less fortunate? 

“Have you come to pay your respects to the fallen king, your brave nephew?” The Septon's voice was serene.

“He was not brave,” Jaime said with a rumbling tone. “He was just a kid playing in an arena much too big for him.”

“Most of us get thrust into situations that we are ill prepared for,” he looked at him and Jaime took notice of his eyes. They were almost silver and shone brightly. The octave of his voice also changed, it became deeper and more wise. His earlier musings about how this man was living left him. “You are doing well, Jaime.” He placed his hand on Jaime's shoulder. A steady warmth seeped into his body. It was like being wrapped up in the coziest of blankets. “The Warrior is pleased. Stay true to your heart. Listen to it. Do not let fear creep in, it will only corrupt what is genuine and real.”

The septon removed his hand and shook his head. His eyes were not the silver of before but a muddy brown. “Ser Jaime, have you come to pay your respects to the fallen King?”

“Yes,” he said. “I have come to pay my respects.” He looked at the statue of the Warrior and felt a renewed sense of purpose.

<<>><<>>

Tommen sat at the table with the quill in his hand and his father over his shoulder. The young boy could barely spell his name without guidance but was already using it to make proclamations. Jaime watched and waited from outside the room. His palms were sweating. He needed to get his son alone. He needed to plant some seeds in his head so that when the time came, the boy would not be frightened but excited. 

As he had been when he was young. When he was told he would be going on an adventure. Jaime wanted his son to have a chance. Even if it was only a small one. Being in Kings Landing, he would only fall victim to the devious minds wanting to use him. He couldn't let that be his life. He had turned his back on the Tommen from his other time. He had left him to the lions which had torn and ripped him apart until all that had been left was a broken boy. Both in spirit and in body. 

He knew Tywin was placing pieces of parchment before the young king. Pointing out where to sign next. He was using the boy to build his dream and Jaime was sickened. The young child had no way of knowing what he was decreeing or what would happen when the laws were revealed to the masses. Joffrey had been a vicious boy, but he could understand a little of what was happening in Kings Landing and in the surrounding lands. Tommen was too innocent to comprehend the games being played. 

Tommen wanted to please so many. His heart was good and untarnished. He felt emotions deeply- as a child his age should- but because of that, he was going to be used until there was nothing left. Jaime just couldn't- wouldn't- let that happen again. 

“You will make a wonderful king, Tommen,” Tywin said at the door before leaving with the different rolls of parchment. 

The Kingsguard blocked the door, but nodded to him as he stepped closer. It helped that he was once their commander. Neither man showed much interest in delaying him from entering the chamber. Jaime walked into the room and smiled at his son. The child looked up from his seat, grinning back at him. His round cheeks were pink, pleasure at seeing his uncle there in his expression. Jaime's heart swelled with love for him. 

“Uncle Jaime!” He exclaimed with true joy.

“King Tommen,” he bowed his head. “How is my favorite nephew?”

His boy giggled, “I am but your only nephew.” His expression grew sad and his lips trembled. “I am sorry. I did not mean... I do miss Joffrey.”

Jaime rushed over to the child and wrapped him in his arms, sliding his hand down his soft blonde curls. “I know you do,” he wanted to kiss the crown of his head. He wanted to give this child all the love he had never let himself give, but he held back. Pulling away, he wiped at the tears on his face gently, “You can miss him and still be happy. It is alright to feel more than one thing.”

The boy nodded, “Mother has been so sad. I do not want to make her hurt more by saying things... things like that.”

“Your mother loves you,” he told his son. He might not agree with how Cersei showed her love, but he didn't doubt in her own way she did care for her children. “She wants you to be happy.” He released his boy with great reluctance. “I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“What would you say to an adventure?” The boy's emerald eyes sparkled...

<<>><<>>

Joffrey was officially placed in his tomb, to the sobbing of both Tommen and Cersei, that evening. The Lannister's and the Tyrell's bowed their heads in silence as the Septon said some prayers over the former king's body before the heavy stone slid into place. Being in the crypts made Jaime's stomach lurch. He would be happy to never step foot in one again. Brienne had placed her hand in his during the final moments, giving it a tiny squeeze in support. 

He appreciated it. He knew Joffrey was awful to her, but she still stood by him. He only wished he felt the loss as deeply as a father should. The walk back to the Red Keep was done in silence. No one really had much to say. Everyone's thoughts were too loud to be spoken. The great hall was lit with candles as they entered for the feast. Platters of food lined the table, fruit pies and rich meats filled the room with a delectable aroma. 

The families gathered around the table each taking a seat to begin the meal. Brienne sat between Genna and himself, but unfortunately she sat across from Cersei too. Tywin took the seat at the head of the table, Olenna to his right. Margaery and Loras sat further down near where Tommen yawned deeply in his chair. His tiny head bobbing in an effort to stay awake. Genna's husband, Emmond, sat next to the newly crowned king. He was quiet and meek compared to his vivacious wife. He talked with the child, helping him pour some cider into his cup.

The queen regent's eyes were red from tears and hard from anger. She filled her glass with wine as soon as she sat down. She drank deeply from the goblet, her gaze never leaving Brienne, who did her best to relax under the scrutiny. It was not easy, but he gave her credit for trying. 

Jaime shifted in his seat, placing his hand on his knife. He did not trust that look from his twin. Brienne moved her hand over his, touching the back briefly. He nearly jumped at the contact. He was taken back to another table, another uncomfortable situation. That time he had been the one to touch Brienne. The tense silence made enjoying the food on his plate impossible. The juicy meat tasted bland and the sweet pies were like lead in his stomach. 

Cersei placed her glass down, “How did your time with the Septa go, Lady Brienne? I trust she was gentle with you.”

“Yes, your Grace,” Brienne's eyes met Cersei's. Jaime glanced at Tywin. His expression was pensive. Olenna smirked a little at his side, staring directly at Cersei, watching the conversation play out. “She was very kind. I felt safe with her there.”

This made Cersei's cheeks flush. “Really?” Her lips pressed together hard, pulling all the pink color out. “I am glad to hear that.”

“Septa Bretta is very gentle and kind soul.” Genna said without looking up from her plate. She speared a boiled carrot with her fork and chewed it slowly. “She wanted to put Lady Brienne at ease. It is such an uncomfortable thing to go through.” She cut some of her boar into small pieces. Her calmness tickled Jaime. He was getting way too much enjoyment out of watching his sweet sister realize her plan had fallen through. “The joys of being a female.”

“Septa Bretta?” Cersei's hand curled around her own fork. “What happened to Septa Untella? I hand-picked her to make sure Lady Brienne got our very best.”

“Oh that poor dear,” Genna placed her hand over her breast and her face clouded with sympathy. “She came down with illness right before it was time for us to arrive. While Lady Brienne was being examined, the sweet woman could be heard moaning in distress.” His aunt sighed deeply. “It really was not pleasant to listen to. I do hope she gets to feeling better soon.” Brienne ducked her head, sipping water from her cup to hide her smile. “Praise the Seven, Septa Bretta was there.”

“Yes,” Cersei agreed. Her eyes shooting daggers at her aunt and Brienne. “It was a blessing indeed.”

“So I take it, all is well,” Tywin asked. 

“It is, dear brother,” Genna confirmed. “The maid of Tarth has not lost the title. You can rest easy now.” 

“Good,” Tywin nodded. “The wedding can proceed without scandal.”

The rest of supper passed by without comment on the subject. Jaime moved his hand close to Brienne's so that their fingers touched. The contact was minimal but it made his mind race with thoughts. He couldn't wait to get her alone again. He missed her.

<<>><<>>

The message was waiting for him when he arrived back to his room after walking Brienne to hers. He wanted to kiss her good night, her sweet, full, pillowy lips were calling out to him all during dinner. It was a slow torture watching them wrap around her fork or snag a glimpse her tongue peeking out to catch some juice from the roasted boar. She did give him a kiss on the cheek. It was light, but she lingered there with him. She had no idea how much it pained him to walk away from her.

He wished the days between now and their wedding gone already. He just wanted to take her in his arms and show her properly how much he wanted her. The chasteness was slowly killing him. He spent way too much time in the dark with his hands wrapped around his cock to relieve the sexual tension. 

Jaime sighed. It would be worth it. He knew it would. Taking the small rolled up missive from the table his heart dropped. He would always recognize this handwriting. He unrolled the message, sitting heavily onto the chair next to the writing table and read the small compact script:

_Dear Brother,_

_I hope this message finds only your hands. A friend has been keeping me informed of what has been happening in Kings Landing. If you are reading this, then he has managed to get it to you without other eyes on it. I write to you with some disheartening news. The one with whom we trusted has taken my little red bird in the night while I, stupidly, slept. I have a few ideas where they have gone, but I fear traveling too far._

_It has been a rough road for us. Our sweet sister has put a bounty on the head of dwarves in the hopes of one person taking mine. I do not believe you knew this. I have heard stories of how she is behaving since Joffrey's death. For that dear brother, I am sorry. He was not a kind child, but he was _family_._

_I might not be able to write again for a while. I just wanted you to know. He has plans for the little red bird. I fear for her, more than I fear for myself. She is young and still naive. Please let Lady Brienne know. Red bird talked about her a lot on the boat to where the water was to take us. She cried more than once, when she found out that your lady was put into prison. I tried to comfort her in those times, but did not have the words. I know that must be shocking to you. I have found myself in a comprising position of feeling deeply for her, but also knowing that she is far too young for me._

_She is now at the mercy of him. I have not prayed to the Seven in many moons, but I am now. The man is dangerous, Jaime. We were wrong to trust him. I have more to say, but I am not confident that this letter will not fall into the wrong hands. Being on the road, alone, has made me weary._

_I miss you brother._

_Yours,_

_Tyrion_

Jaime set the parchment aside and closed his eyes. _Well fuck..._

<<>><<>>


	15. Happy Name Day!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sleep was elusive. Jaime tossed and turned in his bed until he flung the sheets back in frustration, laying spread out on the mattress. His mind was overwhelmed with everything that was happening, with all the extra burdens he wasn't expecting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you all who take the time to read, comment and leave kudos. I really can not express how much that means to me! Thank you!!!
> 
> //////////////
> 
> Big shout out to the best Beta in the world: Merrymaya. Thanks for all the hard work and encouragement!
> 
> //////////
> 
> The beautiful fanart is made by: Ro Nordmann- I love it so much! Thank you, thank you!!
> 
> ////////////////

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48043106187/in/dateposted/)

<<>><<>>

Sleep was elusive. Jaime tossed and turned in his bed until he flung the sheets back in frustration, laying spread out on the mattress. His mind was overwhelmed with everything that was happening, with all the extra burdens he wasn't expecting. He really thought he was making the right choices... but fuck- he should have known better. And deep down, maybe he did. He had even told Brienne about placing some trust in a man undeserving of it. His gut told him then that it could end up being an error in judgment. 

Littlefinger was someone he knew he should be cautious around. The man had plans and ambitions and had always had a soft spot for Catelyn- Sansa was the next best thing in his warped little mind, Jaime guessed. He was so focused on changing things for the better, righting his wrongs, he had neglected considering who he was trusting a young woman with. Petyr Baelish was cunning in ways Jaime was blind to, and now the innocent Stark girl was at his mercy. 

He wondered again if he was choosing the right path. That moment in the Sept had given him hope, but his faith was shaken again. Sansa grew up to be a hard woman in his previous life. Experiences made her grow up too quickly and with little support to comfort her, she turned cold and guarded. Jaime wasn't sure if that was her destiny but he hoped not. No one should be so jaded so young. She should have been wrapped in love, not stripped in hatefulness. 

Jaime sat up in bed- giving up on sleep- and swung his legs over the side. He did not want to think about telling Brienne what his brother had written to him. She would want to rush to Sansa's aid. He could see her making a run for it in the middle of the night to rescue Lady Catelyn's oldest daughter, putting her own well-being to the side to do it. He couldn't let her do that. Their marriage might not protect her from everything but her breaking their betrothal would make her an enemy of Tywin. And that was a lion he didn't want on the hunt. 

Somehow, he would have to convince her that waiting until after their wedding would be the best- the only- option. He sighed. That was going to be easier said than done, he was sure. Jaime stood and started pacing the floor of his bedchamber. His mind worked hard to come up with a solution. He was reminded once again of how much better other members of his family were when it came to politics. Military strategies were easier. The enemies were, for the most part, clearly defined. The objective- and therefore the plan of attack- wasn't always shifting with the tide. He knew how to plan a siege, raid or a battle formation. Those came naturally. This new role he found himself in didn't.

Jaime looked at the table to his left, the note was still there, curled up and innocuous looking. He could just throw the missive in the fire. Let it burn to ash. He could act like he only found out about Littlefinger and Sansa after the wedding. He stopped walking and shook his head, his golden hair falling into his face, until he pushed it back. No. No, that wasn't going to work. Even if Brienne thought this marriage was only in name, he knew better and he didn't want to start their union with a lie. He had always been honest with her- sometimes to a cruel degree; and he would not start deceiving her now.

Not that he really thought he could. She was getting better at reading him. Subtle things she did led him to believe she would recognized the falsehood before he could even finish his lie. So lying was out of the question... He walked to the window, pushing back the curtains to stare out at the water below and the sky above. 

There had to be an answer he was missing. The solution was there. He just had to look for it harder. He squinted his eyes in thought. He needed an ally- in reality he needed more than one. Jaime needed one with ears and eyes everywhere, and one without an agenda. 

Two people came to his mind instantly. A wave of calm washed over him as he thought about reaching out to the two men. With that settled, he climbed back in bed and pulled the sheets over his body. His eyes grew heavy, his mind went blissfully blank and sleep claimed him.

<<>><<>>

Jaime smiled and his body truly relaxed for the first time at the sight of his old friend, Addam Marbrand. He was glad that his father insisted on bringing the knight from Casterly Rock. It was one choice he would have made in Tywin's position as well. The man that he has known all his life grinned back at him. His body encased in his usual bronzed armor with the tree of Marbrand etched into the breast plate. Once they were close enough, Jaime shook his friend's hand warmly. It was nice to be with someone who didn't have a motive and was just who he appeared to be.

“I hear congratulations are in order, my friend,” Addam said with a crooked smile and a sly twinkle in his eyes. “Who is this woman that managed to make the great Jaime Lannister bend the knee?”

Jaime laughed, “Lady Brienne of Tarth. I'm sure you have heard rumors about my betrothed.”

“Aye,” he nodded, “I have. But living in this Gods forsaken city for as long as I have, I have learned to find fault with rumors and only trust what I can see. The people do speak of her-” he paused for a beat. “Her peculiar look and actions.” His grin returned full force. “I have also heard about her beating you in battle.”

Jaime walked slowly with his friend down the streets of Kings Landing. “Yes she is not what most would call pretty to look upon. I will not lie to you about that, but she is...” _special_ , he finished the sentence in his head. He could feel some color creep up the back of his neck, making his skin feel hot. 

Addam laughed heartily at his side. “For the love of the Seven, is that a blush?”

“I can still beat you in a fight, Marbrand, watch yourself.” His expression soured. He didn't _blush_. What the fuck was happening to him?

“I'll just ask for a champion.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. His friend cared not for Jaime's threat. He knew that he would never really hurt him and that knowledge gave him power to tease Jaime without fear. “Lady Brienne might take pity on me and accept the challenge. She knows how dreadful you can be. Is probably already wondering what madness has overtaken her that she agreed to marry such a scoundrel.”

“Ass,” Jaime hissed between his teeth but couldn't stop the smile from returning to his face.

Addam's grin lessened and he turned more serious, “I do not believe you have requested my presence simply to discuss your relationship with the Maid of Tarth. What troubles you, my old friend?”

“You always could read me so well,” he sighed. “You know that Tyrion has left the city with Sansa and Petyr Baelish, correct?”

“Aye,” Addam nodded. “The Queen was very displeased by that. The call for your brother's head and Lady Stark's dead body have been sent out to all who wish to claim some Lannister gold. I fear your brother will not last long. I'm sorry to say, Jaime. He is quite clever, but cleverness has never stopped a crossbow's bolt from finding it's mark.”

Jaime closed his eyes against those facts. He hated the cowardliness of archers, but he couldn't deny that a good one rarely missed his target. “I am aware. And so is he.”

“Have you heard from him?”

“Yes. He managed to get me a message and I'm quite convinced I know how. He seems to be more connected to the happenings in Kings Landing than some of the people who reside within the city walls.”

“The Spider.” Addam said without a hint of question.

Jaime nodded, “That's my guess.” He stopped and turned to his friend. “Littlefinger has taken Sansa somewhere. I feel the Vale would be a safe guess. Her aunt is there and Littlefinger knows that region well. He will use that knowledge and Lysa's well known feelings for him to his advantage.”

Addam rubbed his chin in thought. “Are you planning to lead a military party there? It will surely cause another battle if you do. The Riverlands are still in a state of war. The Blackfish has made himself a strong hold in Riverrun. The word is that he has overtaken the Freys to regain the seat for his family.”

“That stubborn, old cockered,” he grumbled. Addam made a tiny sound of agreement. “I hoped not to cause more strife but I know that Brienne will want to save the Stark girl. She made a vow to protect both of Lady Catelyn's daughters and she will do whatever she deems necessary to keep that oath. I will support her and that's why I've come to you. I trust you and your judgment. When and if the time comes, you will help me pick the right men to take on the Vale.”

“You know I will always follow you, even if you are no longer Lord Commander.” He paused and Jaime could see the thoughts rolling through his eyes, “This Brienne... She sounds like quite a woman,” Addam said finally. His words were quiet and without mockery. Jaime knew Addam would appreciate Brienne's loyalty to her liege lady. “I would love to meet her. Maybe test her great skill with a sword myself.” His cheeky grin was back.

Jaime resisted the urge to growl menacingly at his friend. The lion in his gut bared its sharp teeth. The thought of _'Mine. Only mine.'_ pulsed in his blood. He clamped it all down. It was an innocent comment. And he knew Addam. Suddenly, an image of his oldest friend flat on his back with Brienne smiling down at him in victory- her sword pointed at his neck- entered his head and Jaime held back a smirk.

“You, my friend, wouldn't stand a chance against her.”

Addam shrugged, unfazed by the suggestion of not winning against a woman in a sparring battle, “It would be fun to try.”

Having fought Brienne himself, Jaime could do nothing but agree. It was always fun to fight someone who could match your skill or even surpass it. It made the person a better swordsmen in the long run, forced them to practice harder. It was the greatest feeling in the world to someone with the song of steel in their blood.

<<>><<>>

Finding Varys had to wait, for word was the boat from Tarth was to arrive soon. Brienne rushed from the Red Keep with him following behind her in amusement, her eyes shining brilliantly in anticipation of her father being in Kings Landing. Jaime watched her transform from stoic soldier to innocent child as she looked out at the water by the docks. She glanced over at him, grinning fully. Her crooked, large teeth not concealed by big lips as she waited.

He felt his insides quiver. Her smile, her real smile, might not be what others find beautiful, but he couldn't take his eyes off it. She so rarely shared the gift with the world that when she did, it was a moment to cherish. In his previous life, he only saw it once and, like now, it took his breath away. He moved closer to her, needing to be embraced by the light of her happiness. 

“I've missed him so much, Jaime,” she said, turning back to scan the sea. “It's been so long...”

“I am most interested in meeting him,” he continued to gaze upon her. “He must be quite a man to inspire such a smile from you.” 

She pressed her lips together as if just now remembering that she shouldn't smile or more likely, thinking that it was ugly, all crooked teeth and big lips. Her cheeks blushed a deep red. Jaime silently cursed himself for making her self conscious. 

“Don't do that,” he told her softly. 

Her blue eyes turned to his green ones, “Don't do what?”

Jaime's thumb rubbed gently at her chin to loosen the tension in her face, “Do not hide your smile. I like it. You do not smile enough.”

“I have heard,” she paused, her eyes clouding over with memories he was not privy to, “it is not pleasing to look at. My teeth... my lips...” She stuttered, embarrassed.

“I find it pleasing,” he smiled at her. “And as your future Lord Husband, my opinion is the only one that should be of importance.” Her eyes lowered but her smile came back. “I do wish you would tell me who was this individual who told you such a falsehood. I'd love to give them some lessons in how to treat a lady.”

Brienne opened her mouth, but was interrupted by a booming voice. “My sweet starlight!”

Jaime turned to the man standing on the bow of a massive vessel. His green eyes widened at the gentleman disembarking from the ship. Brienne left his side to run down the stairs to greet her father. Jaime moved more slowly. His mind still taking in the sight. Selwyn Tarth was large. He swallowed Brienne up in a hug, turning his tall warrior woman into a small child. Her head rested on his shoulder as she melted into his body. His height reached at least six feet eleven, his chest was broad, and even though he easily dwarfed most men, he was slender at the waist. 

His face was round but not fat, there was a fullness to his cheeks which comes from good health. The lower half of his face was covered with a thick gray beard. From the little Jaime could see, he thought his lips were almost as full as Brienne's. Many of his betrothed's features were reflected in her father. It would not be hard for anyone to see the relation between them. Even with most of his hair being silver with age, Jaime saw the yellow coloring used to fill his head.

In the years he thought of Selwyn, Jaime could say this mountain of a man was not who he pictured. And now he wondered why he was shocked. This man was exactly who he should have anticipated. The older male pulled back from his daughter, using his arms to create space so he could look more closely at her. “You are too skinny girl. Have they been mistreating you?”

Brienne laughed, the sound sending a shiver down Jaime's spine. “I have been eating fine, father.” She glanced quickly in his direction before focusing back on her sire. “The Lannisters have been very generous.”

Selwyn's sea blue eyes found his. His smile lessened slightly at the sight of the male about to take his daughter's hand in marriage. “You are the man I will soon call my good son, yes?”

A line of sweat broke out along the collar of his jerkin. He was nervous. Really nervous. He wanted this person who meant so much to Brienne to like him. He felt like a squire standing before his knight praying the man would take favor with him. He forced his feet to move and his body to relax a little. Jaime came to stand at Brienne's side and extended his hand to his future good father.

“Yes, ser, I am your daughter's betrothed.”

Selwyn clasped his hand around Jaime's. He was waiting for the pressure, the test of strength, the battle of wills. It never came. The hand shake was a normal one between two men. Jaime relaxed a touch more. This was going well. Better than he thought it would.

The older of the two nodded his head, “I have thought about what I would say to you when I finally stood in front of you.” And all at once he was back to being tense. Selwyn looked quickly at Brienne, who wore a soft expression on her face. “I do not care for your past. Being the infamous Kingslayer's whore, yes those rumors reached my ears.” His warm sky eyes turned cold, “Is not what a father wishes for his only daughter- his only child.” He licked his lips under his beard. 

“But you asked me for Brienne's hand; and that was an act you did not have to do. It could have backfired on you, in fact. So I had to rethink my thoughts on the man you are,” Selwyn's eyes warmed again. “I have learned a lot in my many years, and one of the greatest lessons I have learned is that everyone is more than one act. If you continue to show respect to my daughter, let her be the girl I am proud to call mine, I will never let a bad word be spoken about you in my presence. You will have my loyalty and I hope you will give yours to my sweet starlight.”

A lump grew in Jaime's throat at his words. He had never thought anyone would see him as more than a dishonored knight who killed his king besides Brienne, but here was his soon to be good father, opening his arms to him. Emotion overwhelmed him. “You have my word,” he said thickly, “for what my word is worth in Westeros.”

Brienne's hand bumped against his, their knuckles touching and their pinkies linking together. A connection. Small as it was, it was exactly what he needed. He looked out of the corner of his eyes to see her eyes filling up with tears at her father and his words. She's never been accepted by anyone but her father until him. And he has never had people believe in him until her- and now her father. This feeling was new- acceptance. He never wanted to lose it. 

He would do whatever it took to keep it. He once said he would kill everyone to be with Cersei- he thought that was powerful. He was wrong. This, what he felt right now, was true power. He would not kill everyone to be with Brienne, he would kill anyone who tried to harm her or their relationship. Jaime would protect her heart and body with his- forever.

<<>><<>>

As soon as Selwyn presented himself to the young king, he was led away to have a private conversation with Tywin- to discuss dowry and the upcoming wedding between their children. He stopped only to squeeze Brienne's hand and say softly, “Tomorrow, I demand we break fast together. I have not had a chance to see my starlight on her name day in many moons. I look forward to getting to spend this one with you.”

It took all his control and years of being in court for Jaime's jaw not to drop. _Her name day..._ He realized that in all the talks he had had with his Brienne, she had never divulged that piece of information to him. He pulled her to the side once their fathers, Tommen and the ever present glare of his sister had left and eyed her. 

“It's your name day tomorrow?”

Brienne blushed, “It is.”

“Why did you never speak of it?” He was honestly curious. When Cersei was Brienne's age, she would demand that everyone gave her the attention she deserved... especially the man who shared the day with her. “I should have known.” _You should have asked_ a tiny voice whispered in his ear.

“It is not that big of a deal, Ser Jaime,” she was blushing harder with every word. Her eyes gave away that it _was_ a big deal to her, but she was trying to make it mean less. “It is merely a day. It will come and pass as each day before has and no one will care that my mother birthed me on this date.”

He was enraged at that, “I care. I want to know you, Brienne. We are to be wed.”

“Jaime...”

“Shh,” he placed a finger to her lips quickly. She gasped and he shivered at the warm, moist breath touching his skin. He removed his finger slowly, reluctantly. “I see your father has claimed your morn, but I claim your afternoon. I would like you to meet me by the stables at high noon.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits, “Why? What could you possibly wish to do?”

He grinned at her. His mind already working on his plan. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Her faith in him made his heart race. “I trust you, Jaime.”

“Then,” he took her hands in his. “Meet me at the stables at noon.” 

He pressed his lips to her cheek briefly then left to set his plan into motion. He would tell her about Sansa after her name day... he promised himself. He did not want to ruin her day with the news. And it would give him a chance to come up with a solid plan- one which included her riding into battle at his side as his wife.

<<>><<>>

Jaime planned late into the night, and worked hard the next morn to get all his duties complete and his surprise for Brienne finished. He rubbed the neck of the palfrey he had picked out for himself, then turned his attention to the white horse he was planning to give to his bride. This gift was meant for their wedding day, but her name day was just as good and he could not wait to see her reaction. 

She entered the stables wearing her riding clothes- boiled leather pants and a light tan cotton tunic. Her face was flushed already and he couldn't take his eyes off of hers. The way they sparkled- even in the dim light- caused his insides to jump.

He smiled at her in greeting, “Happy name day, Brienne.”

“Thank you,” she licked at her bottom lip, coming to stand at his side by the horses. Her hand reached out to press against the strong neck of the white horse. It turned toward her, bumping her hand with it's nose.

“You like him,” Jaime asked.

“He is a beautiful beast,” she acknowledged, never taking her eyes from the animal. “Who owns him?”

“You do,” Jaime took the horse's reigns and gave them to her. “He is yours.”

“I...” she shook her head. “Jaime, I cannot accept...”

“Yes you can,” he placed the leather straps in the hand not caressing the body of her new mount firmly. “It is your gift- er- it is one of your gifts. I have other plans for you, wench.”

“How did you come to get such a creature in one night,” she asked. Her voice suspicious.

“You doubt the power of the Lannister name,” he teased. 

“I do not,” she shook her head, but her eyes were still questioning. “I am merely wondering how you accomplished it so quickly.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, “Fine, you minx, I had planned to give you this colt on our wedding day.” She pressed her lips together to smother her laughter. “Are you happy to call me out on my deception?”

“Whether you planned to give him to me on this day or in the coming days, it would not change my feelings.” She leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Jaime.”

He nodded, feeling pleased with himself. “Come, I have more planned for you.”

She climbed up on the back of the colt with ease and looked down at him. “Lead the way.”

<<>><<>>

The clearing was secluded, quiet, just as he remembered it. He hopped down from his horse and waited for Brienne to follow before tying the horses to a low hanging branch near the water so they could drink. He gathered the stuff he brought with him and placed the items on the ground. Brienne looked around as he worked. Her eyes moving from spot to spot.

The stream was gently moving down and over rocks. Fish were swimming with the current. The ground had small wildflowers sprinkled throughout the lush green grass. The nearest home was almost a mile away, so there were not any humans around them. Trees were thick and blocked many an eye from seeing the couple. Jaime loved this place. He had thought often of sharing his slice of peace with Cersei. It would have been perfect for their rendezvous, but something had always stopped him.

In the darkest moments of his life in Kings Landing, this is where he had ridden to when the horrors of dealing with the Mad King became too much. When he couldn't stop the sounds of the screams and the crazy laughter from ringing in his head so loudly it hurt. He had taken his sword, found a strong tree, and swung as hard as he could until exhaustion and the pain in his arms had made him stop. Jaime had curled up on this very grass more than once and had cried for all those he could not save. It had been in this spot where he had started formulating a plan to end Aerys reign of terror. 

He shook his head. He did not want to ruin the afternoon with those memories. He wished to make new ones- better ones. He finished laying out the blanket and then walked over to where Brienne was standing. She turned to face him. 

“It's beautiful here.” She whispered the words as if scared to talk too loud. “I didn't know somewhere this quiet existed in the city.”

“I used to come here a lot while in the Kingsguard when I needed to be alone.”

“Did you bring...” She let the rest of the sentence drop. Both knew the end anyway. 

“No,” he shook his head. “I cannot tell you why because I know not myself. But no, I never did.” He took her hand and led her to the blanket. “Come now, Brienne,” he pulled the basket of bread, some cold meat cut into thick slices, and cheeses closer to them. The flagon of cider came out next with two glasses. He had come to realize that Brienne wasn't fond of wine in any life and he appreciated that more and more. He filled up her cup and then did the same to his. “To my betrothed on her name day. I hope it is a happy one.”

“It's been one of the better ones,” she smiled at him shyly. “I have had some that I would like to forget. But this one-” she ducked her head, some hair falling into her face. He pushed it back, caressing her cheek with his fingertips. “Thank you for this Jaime. I do not know why you are taking so much care with me.”

He could not believe she was still so unaware of his feelings. Yes, he has been careful with her but even a blind man could see he wanted her. He wanted to taste her lips, inhale the sweet fragrance of her skin, touch every part of her body, see the way her eyes would widen and her lips would part on a sigh and hear his name spoken in that breathy moaning voice. He ran his hand down her neck, feeling her skin heat under his touch and her pulse jump.

“You really do not know,” he whispered leaning closer to her, but going slowly to give her time to push back if she wanted to. Her head shook in the negative and her eyes dropped to his lips. The bright blue irises were disappearing as her pupils dilated. He brushed his lips along her cheekbone and he could feel her quiver. “I've tried really hard to stop myself from overwhelming you.” He drug his mouth down to her chin, sucking gently on the skin. Even in his fevered state, he knew not to leave marks... at least not in obvious places. “I dream about you.” She moaned softly, giving him more of her neck to explore. 

“I think about you. Your lips, your hands, your body, your gorgeous eyes,” he pulled back and she whimpered. Her breathing was getting harsher. “You have no idea how many nights I've thought about taking you, claiming you. Everything about you makes me weak inside,” he moved toward her with purpose. Her skin was as red as he had ever seen it, but the want in her eyes nearly undid him. She leaned back and he covered her body with his. “Do you feel it Brienne? Do you feel how much I want you, need you?”

“Yes,” she breathed out in that voice. That wicked, _fuck-me_ voice that made him want to tear their clothes off and push himself into her. “You... I...” Her hand brushed his erection accidentally. He hissed against her ear and she moved her hand away.

“No,” he took her wrist and placed it back on his aching cock. “I'm this hard because of you. You should know exactly what you do to me.” He covered her mouth with his, swiping his tongue over her plump bottom lip. She opened her mouth with a gasp, and pressed her palm harder against him as her other hand snaked up his arm to grip his shoulder. He explored her mouth, tasting the sweetness he remembered but didn't get enough of. She was unsure in her kiss. Their noses kept bumping and teeth tapped painfully together, but he loved it. Her tongue started to move with his. Testing to see what she liked, what he found pleasurable. He found it all delightful. He twisted the fingers of his left hand in her soft hair and used his other hand trace the curve of her side- he rejoiced in his head at having two hands to worship her body properly. “Gods Brienne,” he moaned into her mouth.

“Jaime,” she whispered. “I don't know... I have never...”

“Thank the Seven for that,” he growled, diving back in to claim her mouth. He sucked on her bottom lip. “You are _mine_ , Brienne.” There was a darkness to his voice at the word- mine. She felt the power of it. He knew she did from how her body pushed against his in need. “I know this is new for you,” he lifted her shirt and caressed her bare flesh. “But know that whatever we do, you get to decide when we stop.”

She tugged at his shoulder, “What if I do not want to stop?”

The prowling lion in his gut roared at that. He kissed his way to her earlobe, biting it gently, “If you don't want to stop then we will not stop and I can die tomorrow a happy man.”

She giggled until she snorted, “Trying to get out of marrying me?”

“I would marry you right now,” he told her in a deep voice. “I would ride to the sept and drag one of those sexless bastards here and wed you. Say the word.”

She bit her lip, dragging the kissed plump flesh into her mouth, “I do not need to marry you,” she wrapped a hand around the back of his head, pulling him back to her. “To know that I want you. I have wanted you for a long time.” Brienne blushed even more at her own confession.

He grinned at her words, his smile predatory, “You have me wench. And now, I'll have you.”

Jaime kissed her deeply again. Mapping out her mouth, tracing the crooked teeth and sliding against her soft tongue. She arched her back as his right hand cupped her small breast. The nipple hardened against his palm and he circled the sensitive bud with his thumb. She tore her mouth from his and panted out a moan. He sucked at her throat as she bent her head back. Her hands pulled at the material of his shirt at the small of his back. Her blunt nails were scraping against him. 

He extracted himself just enough to rid himself of his shirt. Brienne's eyes took in the new skin exposed to her eyes. She pressed her palms to his sides, letting her fingers explore his lean body and lightly muscled chest. She lifted up and placed her mouth against his skin, right where his heart was pounding. His fingers found a home in her hair, holding her head to him. Her tongue flicked out, tasting his flesh, sucking slightly at the sweat. He was losing control the longer her lips were on him. 

Pulling at the edges of her tunic, Jaime eased her back to the blanket and moved down her body. Mouthing at the dip in her collarbone- where the scar from the bloody mummers was. She squirmed under him. He smiled against her skin, continuing his journey. He pushed the material up to her neck, and sucked in a breath at the sight of her bare before him. She didn't bind her breasts in this life either. For the tenth time since they began, he thanked the Seven. She was perfect. Her small breasts were perky with large, dusty pink areolas and pebbled nipples. Freckles dotted her body, constellations for him to map out and connect. A deep flush colored the pale skin red. He loved every single part of her. 

The temptation was too great. He captured one of her nipples in his mouth. She arched up, thrusting her teat into his face. He wrapped one arm around her back and fondled the other tit with his other hand. Her hands returned to his body, nails digging into skin, fingers gripping at his side. He moved his head to the breast he hadn't had in his mouth yet. He hummed against her. She shivered and dug her nails in a little harder.

He knew it was cheating. He knew what made her moan, what caused her to beg for his touch, which sensations sent her over the edge. Jaime learned it all during those two weeks with Brienne in Winterfell; and he planned to use that knowledge to his benefit now. Reluctantly, he left her delectable teats and licked a trail down her flat, toned stomach. He spent time sucking at the muscles. He went to remove her tunic from her body completely but found nothing but her smooth skin. Brienne had taken it off herself. 

His heart swelled. He knew her insecurities. He knew she did not love her body, but she took this step, just as she had in her room at Winterfell. Gods! He loved this woman! He pulled her towards him, bringing their chests together. She met his frantic kiss with one of her own. Her long arms wrapped around his neck. The feeling of her naked breasts against him sent his mind spiraling. His cock got harder, more insistent. He longed for her hands around his hard member. The rough and soft parts of her palm gripping and stroking him to bliss. 

His blood rushed rapidly through his veins. He pulled away from her, panting into her shoulder. He had to get himself under control. Jaime rolled to the side, burying his face into the curve where her neck and shoulder met. He kissed the sweat from her skin as he moved his hand down her stomach toward her breeches. He played with the strings, waiting for her to give him a sign. He got it quickly.

She turned her head toward him and kissed him soundly, rolling her hips against his hand. He growled low in his throat, yanking at the ties and pulling the material down her long legs. He stopped at her knees, sliding his hand up her thighs. His fingertip drew designs on her legs as he moved closer to her core. He could smell her arousal. Sweet, musky and Brienne melding together to flood his senses. His index finger touched the edge of her small clothes and she jumped. He rose up and looked down at her. Her hair was spread out around her head like the rays of the sun. Her bottom lip was bloody from her biting it, keeping her sounds of pleasure from him as much as possible. 

_That will not do,_ he thought. _When I move inside you, my perfect wench, I will hear you. I will make sure the whole fucking castle hears you._

He tore his eyes from her lips and met her hungry gaze. “What do you want Brienne?”

“I want...” she licked at her bottom lip. “I need you to touch me.”

“Where,” he tried not to sound desperate, but fuck, that voice was doing things to him. “Where do you want me to touch you?”

“My,” she blushed harder. Her eyes pleaded with him to understand without making her say it. But he couldn't do that. This had to be her decision. He needed her to relish being a sexy woman with a man at her mercy. He wanted her to know that this moment wasn't about him. He would get his time later. This was about her. This was the first step to her knowing herself as a desirable woman.

“Your...”

“Please Jaime,” she begged, moving against him. Telling him without words what she needed. He didn't want to torture her, but he had to have the words. “I want you to touch....”

“Yes, Brienne,” he kissed her softly, urging her with his mouth to own it.

“Touch my cunt,” she whispered and he kissed her passionately as his hand pulled her small clothes down, exposing her most intimate part to him. He slid his finger through her curls, finding them wet and soft. He swallowed roughly at her whining sigh. “Oh, oh, Gods...”

His thumb found her clit and he pressed down on the bundle of nerves. She jumped under him, her body tensing. “Relax,” he kissed her jawline. “Don't be scared. Let me take care of you.”

He dipped his finger into her cunt. Her tight, hot center gripped the digit. His cock jerked in his pants. He was so fucking hard he was close to tears, but he kept his focus on his lady. The pressure of his thumb and the small thrusts of his finger made her roll her hips against his palm.

“More,” she begged. Her voice was pure sex. “More.”

He added a second finger and pushed harder against her clit. “So beautiful,” he murmured into her cheek. “So perfect.”

Her hips canted up, over and over and she gripped his shoulders tighter. Crescent marks would remain from this moment. Pride swelled inside him. He brought this out of her. He moved his fingers within her faster, reading her body and using what he already knew to give her what she craved. He bent his head to her chest and pulled a nipple between his teeth, flicking the tip with his tongue. Her body went as taunt as a bow string. Jaime kept his hand moving, kept his mouth on her breast. She cried out as her peak broke over her. 

She shook and called out to the Gods, screamed his name. Her climax flooded his hand with her essence. He inhaled. The lion in his body, roaring with victory. She rode her orgasm out, shaking as aftershocks worked through her. Brienne turned her head to him, her hand caressed his jaw and she leaned in to kiss him. Their mouths met, needing to be connected in another way. His hand was still inside her, still moving in light motions. His wrist hurt a little, but he couldn't find it in himself to give a fuck. 

Slowly he pulled his fingers from her wet warmth. She watched him as he licked her essence from his hand. Her dark blue eyes widened and her mouth parted in awe. Brienne continued to watch him as he finished licking the last of her from his skin. The minute his mouth was free, she wrapped her hand around the back of his head and crushed her lips to his. He pushed his tongue past her lips, letting her find herself on his mouth. 

Her hand dropped to his cock, straining the material of his pants. She broke the kiss, staring into his eyes, “You...”

Jaime shook his head. “That can wait.” He pulled back, helping her right herself. They put their tunics back on and he gathered her close, resting her head against his shoulder. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head, whispering, “Happy name day, Brienne.”

She sighed then yawned, her body melting against his, “Thank you, Jaime. For everything.”

Her breathing evened out and he pressed another kiss to her hair. “You never have to thank me for loving you, Brienne. It's as natural as breathing.”

<<>><<>>


	16. A Meadow and A Union

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The warm breath on the side of his neck pulled him from a peaceful slumber. It took him a moment to remember where he was and who he was with, but Jaime tightened his hold around Brienne once it all came back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm sorry for the delay. I don't even know if anyone is still invested in this story, but I do apologize for how long it has taken me to upload a new one. Thank you to anyone that has read, commented and/or left kudos, it means so much to me. It seems like Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and I are into giving Jaime and Brienne some alone time in meadows... 😂
> 
> <<>><<>>
> 
> Thank you to my Beta: Merrymaya who pushed me pretty hard on this chapter. Hopefully what I've come up with is as good as her suggestions.
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> <<>><<>>
> 
> Thank you to Ro Nordmann for the beautiful and amazing fanart. I love it so much
> 
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[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48043106187/in/dateposted/)

<<>><<>>

The warm breath on the side of his neck pulled him from a peaceful slumber. It took him a moment to remember where he was and who he was with, but Jaime tightened his hold around Brienne once it all came back. The steady puff of air against his skin made him smile, and snuggle closer to her body. Brienne sighed in her sleep, then her hand tightened in the material of his tunic and she slid her leg in between his. The feeling of her body made his own spring to attention. He had to force back a groan as to not wake her, and make his previous statement- about how his needs could wait- a lie.

He stared up at the sky. White cotton clouds moved with the wind, changing shapes and densities as they went. Jaime idly ran his fingers through her soft hair, starting at the roots and working his way down as his mind drifted. His thoughts were basic and also tame. He was happy. It was such an easy feeling. Brienne made him happy. He reflected on how he used to feel when he was with Cersei. For him to be content with her, he had to bend to her will. He never regretted doing it because he had loved her, but loving her always came with a price. 

In his previous life, the price had never been too high for him to pay. And he had paid over and over again. He had paid with his birthright to Casterly Rock. He had paid with his honor. He had paid with Bran's life. He had paid with the betrayal of Brienne's trust. He had gone into debt paying for Cersei's love, and he had ended up also paying with his life. And he had thought that's what he deserved. All the romantic songs, lover's plays, were about the ultimate sacrifice. The blood spilt for true love. Lives lost. Children dead. Wars started, fought and good men caught in the middle because they couldn't let go. Tragic and pointless. 

Laying on the grass with Brienne at his side, it seemed silly now. He could see things so much more clearly. He had loved Cersei. He could not deny that fact and, even though he was ashamed of some of his actions, he would never want to. It was a part of him. It was a large part of his life, but that love was not true. In any sense of the word. It was poison in his veins. Killing him slowly, methodically, until he was too ruined to be the man Brienne deserved. 

Jaime could not only blame Cersei for this. She was who she was, just as Brienne was who she was. Cersei was made of vinegar and venom. She had to be. She was not given a father like Brienne's who would let her be different. Tywin didn't let her choose who she wed- though his lady had almost been chained to that same fate- he thanked the Seven she had been placed in his life instead. Cersei had been sold like a prize cow to the highest bidder. The softness that he saw in her- in their youth, had turned to stone in the years since. It took him dying to see how blind he had been to all her flaws... 

Well, that was not entirely honest. He had seen it before. Jaime had seen it when she had used wildfire to burn her enemies. He had seen it in how she had been willing to kill everyone to protect her power. He had seen it in the weeks he was away from her, surrounded by people working together instead of working against each other. He had seen it in the shining eyes of the woman who was in his arms now. Jaime had seen it in Winterfell, but hadn't let himself believe that he deserved more than Cersei's cold, cruel world. How could he have been worth more than that? He had been a fool too many times. 

Jaime closed his eyes and pushed the emotions back. He still did not feel that he was worthy of this happiness found with Brienne. How the Gods deemed him deserving was beyond his comprehension. Brienne moved again. Her hand on his chest started a slow path up toward his neck. Her fingertips curled into the hair at the base of his skull. 

“What are you thinking about?” Her voice was heavy and warm from sleep. The fingers in her hair moved down her back, tracing the curve of her spine. She sighed, “That feels nice.” 

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, smiling to himself. “I am contemplating how happy I am,” he answered honestly. “And how I do not deserve to be so.”

She lifted up onto her elbow to look down on him, and the fingers playing in his hair stopped. He wished she would continue. Her touch soothed him, comforted him. Her incredible eyes held his for a long moment. It felt like she was searching his soul for answers. The right side of her lips lifted in a half smile, and she leaned over him. She pressed a light kiss to his lips, pulling away before he could even think of deepening it. She laid back down beside him, using his chest as her pillow again.

“When I first met you,” she started, her fingers going back to playing with his curls, “I really wanted to punch you in the face.” He jerked back for a second in shock at her statement, before laughing loudly. He felt her smile against his chest as he continued to guffaw at her comment. Once he got himself under control, she started talking again. “You treated me as so many before had, but then, you would look at me like you knew me.” He swallowed and licked his lips, remembering those moments after being returned to the living and seeing her for the first time. Her tone changed, becoming almost playful, “I could not understand how anyone could find you even remotely attractive...”

“Ah, come now, my wench,” he tilted his head so he could see her properly. He gave her his best seductive look to which she rolled her eyes and blushed all over. “You know you thought me deviously handsome. How could you not? After a year of living in my own shit, my natural fragrance and dirty appearance must have done something to you.”

“Yes,” she acknowledged with a nod. She rested her chin on his chest and their eyes met. Each holding mirth and contentment. “It turned my stomach quite violently.” He chuckled again. She, however, turned serious. “When you were first brought to camp, I asked Lady Catelyn who would wish to die for a Lannister- especially for one as dishonorable as you.” She touched his cheek gently, and he melted into the caress. “Now I know. You are a better man than you realize. You are a better man than most realize.” Her thumb brushed over his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth to press a kiss to the pad. “You deserve happiness, Jaime.”

He tilted his head up to kiss her as she moved toward him. Their mouths met in a slow dance. She was learning the moves quickly. They didn't bump noses as much, and their teeth didn't clash together. It was just sweet... until it wasn't. Her hand, which had remained on his face, moved down his throat. He shivered under her touch, his body reacting almost immediately, begging to be caressed by her. He held her tightly to him, pressing her form against his. Brienne moaned deep in her throat. He took the sound and matched it with a low growl. His right hand moved slowly up and down her back, his fingers grazing the top of her ass, but not cupping the firm globes in the way he longed to do. Brienne wrapped her left leg around his, bringing them together more firmly. His cock jerked at being so close to her center again. 

Jaime could feel the heat of her. The lingering scent of her previous orgasm intensified, and he got light headed as he inhaled. He needed more. He needed her so much it hurt. His cock strained harder against his breeches. Her hand dropped to his stomach and he wanted to urge it lower. He was close to breaking. Close to begging. She pulled back from the kiss, her eyes on his. The unasked question hung between them as she bravely moved her palm lower.

The primal part of him- the lion that resided in his body- wanted nothing more than to take her hand and place it directly on his hard member. To feel those fingers wrap around him as he panted into her neck. To give into the desire to leave his mark on her skin, proudly showing that she was his and only his. He made a promise to himself that: once they were wed, her neck would be covered in with his kisses. No one would think her unwanted or unloved. 

The rational part of his brain, rusty and often unused, warned him that he still needed to go slow. She had only had her first climax with a man moments ago. She had never done anything sexual and was not prepared for him to unleash all his desires on her. So, instead of doing as he wished to, he cleared his throat and said in a voice strained from denied want, “You do not have to...”

Her kissed plump lips turned up slightly at that, “I know.” She brought her mouth back to his, pushing her tongue beyond his lips to tangle with his. He groaned. By the Seven! She was getting so good at that. Brienne pulled back slowly, neither really wanting to break the connection. Her blue eyes were soft, but also filled with arousal. “I want to. I want you to show me what you like.”

“Fuck,” he growled, kissing her roughly. Her quiet admission, her sweet confession, sent his mind and body reeling. How could this woman exist? How could no one see how perfect she was? How could he get so blessed to be the only one who knew? Jaime didn't know and frankly didn't give a fuck either. He was just glad that every other man was more of a fool than he was; and that Brienne was just crazy enough to want him back. “You are sure?”

“Yes,” she smiled at him. “Show me.”

He swallowed roughly as he pulled at the strings of his pants, pushing them down his hips. He watched her eyes widen and her tongue flick out to wet her lips. Gods! He knew, _knew_ she had no idea what she was doing. It was all instinct and innocence, but she was doing everything right. He took her hand and eased it over his cock which was still covered by his smallclothes. Her fingers brushed against him lightly. He jerked in reaction. It would be extremely embarrassing to peak just from that, but at this point, it was not out of the realm of possibility. Jaime panted into the curve of her neck. His senses were going berserk and she hadn't even touched him properly yet.

__

__

Brienne hesitated for a half a beat, then pulled his smallclothes down. Her body trembled. He was sure his was too. He came to himself enough to look up at her. She was biting her bottom lip hard, determination in her gaze. She did want this. She wanted him to feel what he made her feel. She wanted him to reach the same level of satisfaction she had attained with his fingers inside of her. Knowing that, seeing that reflected in her sapphire orbs, made his stomach flip and his heart seize up. 

He wasn't used to that from a partner. Cersei was selfish. Yes, he had reached his peak with her, but it had always been on her terms. She had never thought of him before her, unless it had been to manipulate him later. Brienne had no intention of using his emotions against him. She just wanted him to feel as good as she did. He never wanted to compare the two- it was a fool's errand to try for the two women were as different as the sun and the moon- but it was hard not to think about, in this moment.

He took her hand in his, and she met his stare. Her free wrapped gently around his cock. Jaime's breath caught in his throat as she moved her palm up and down his shaft. The touch was too light, but he was in near bliss just from having her hand upon him. “I will not break,” he said through gritted teeth, his resolve at not ending this too soon barely there, “You can grip me harder.”

Her hand tightened, and his body bowed. “Like that?”

“Yes,” he hissed. Her calloused palm tightened a little more and started to move again. His heart was going so fast he worried he would die from this. It would be wholly undignified- and he was surely not how the Warrior intended him to meet the Stranger again- but he would not regret spending eternity in the Seven Hells, if these were his last moments. “Oh Gods, Brienne...”

She kissed his jawline. Her mouth sucking at the skin. He smiled a little to himself. Brienne was leaving her mark. He would have a bruise from her mouth and he loved it. The wanton way she acted in his arms made him feel powerful. Her thumb brushed the head of his cock, circling the slit. Some of his seed leaked from the top, helping her ease back down. His right hand lifted her tunic. He needed to feel her. He couldn't be the only one flying at the moment. His hands cupped her breasts, rubbing her hard nipples, pulling gently at the buds. She arched her back. Her hand gripped like a vise around him. He saw stars behind his eye lids. Jaime's body jerked. His testicles tightened. He was close. 

They moved more frantically. Her hand on his erection less unsure and his hands caressing her body all over. The heat created between them rivaled that of the sun over them. Her moan as he gripped her ass and played with her nipples made his hips snap. Brienne kissed him roughly, her fist twisting slightly on the way down. The threads of his composure were fraying more and more. He pulled his mouth from hers and whispered against her ear, “Yes, just like that. You are perfect...so fucking perfect.”

Their legs entangled and he urged Brienne to start thrusting against his thigh. He noticed her desire taking hold again and the animal in his soul purred in happiness as she did rock against him with purpose- seeking that high just out of her reach. Her blush was hot against his lips. Her body tensed. He watched as her eyes widened in her release and started thrusting into her closed fist. He was so aroused by her abandon that it sent him spiraling after her. His hot seed covered his stomach and her hand. Brienne didn't take her gaze away from his. She stared at him as he roared loudly, his peak so powerful his heart felt like it gave out. He was thankful they were laying down because he was sure his legs would not have supported him at that moment. 

She continued to move her hand against him until he could take no more and gently pulled her away. She looked at the mess covering her skin and he intended to reach for the edge of the blanket, when she did something that made him gasp and moan all at once. She sucked one of her fingers into her mouth, tasting him the way he had tasted her. His mind blanked out. The ability to do anything but stare was taken from him. Brienne pulled the clean finger out of her mouth with a small pop. She noticed his dumbfounded expression and repeated the action with her other fingers. Jaime knew his mouth was open like a fish gasping for air, but he couldn't shut it. Her licking his seed from her hand was the most sexy thing he had ever seen, made sexier because she wasn't doing it for any other reason than she had been curious. Her cheeks reddened the longer he stared at her, her eyes darkened to a midnight shade of blue and her lips curled a little in a slightly naughty smile. 

She leaned forward and he pounced on her. His mouth attacking hers, his body covering her own. She laughed breathlessly at his actions. Joy radiating through them both. He rolled until she was over him. Brienne lifted her head and grinned down at him. He pushed the hair which fell forward back, cupping her face between his hands, his thumbs rubbing at the fullness of her cheeks. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. Jaime couldn't stop the silly grin forming on his face. 

She rested her head back on his shoulder and ran her nose along the side of his neck. “You never did tell me when your name day is.”

“That is true,” he interlaced their fingers together, closing his eyes again, waiting for her reaction. 

She huffed and he chuckled quietly. “Are you going to tell me?”

He cracked one eye open, “My name day is the seventh day of the seventh month.”

“I will have to think of a good way to celebrate your day,” her eyes sparkled, “my summer child.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, his head falling back. “That can not be the name you call me.” Her laugh was loud and full bodied. “Plus, I am clearly not a child.” He slanted his eyes at her with a playful suggestion. “Should I remind you of that, My Lady?”

She hid her face into the side of his throat and sighed. “You have definitely done enough to show that you are a strong man, my Lord.”

“I did promise that I was,” he kissed her temple. “In fact I do believe my exact words were, I am strong enough to throw you down and tear off all your clothes.” He sighed sadly. “That, I am afraid, will have to wait until our wedding night.”

She lifted her head, her face slightly serious. “I never thought you would actually want to...”

“Bed you,” he finished and she nodded. “I certainly hope this afternoon proved to you otherwise.”

“I still can not believe it fully though,” her voice was full of wonder. “I have always been told that a man- any man- would not want someone like me. Men would want someone more beautiful and someone as natural in a dress as she is commanding a home...”

“I know you have been told falsehoods all your life about how a man will never want you,” he rose up into a sitting position and she did the same. “But trust my words when I say, you are desirable. Maybe not to all men, but to some, you are everything they have ever wanted.” His mind flashed to Tormund's face the night Brienne choose Jaime. “If I could make a list of all the qualities I find mesmerizing in a woman, you would embody all of them. You are the perfect woman for me.”

Tears overflowed from her eyes and he wiped them away. She took a deep breath, took his hand and touched her forehead to his. “You would embody mine as well.”

Jaime felt his heart swell with emotion. It was not an _I love you_ from either of them. But it was close. They were getting closer. And he was happy.

<<>><<>>

When they finally made it back to the Red Keep, it was like returning to reality after being in a dream. Jaime longed to turn their horses back around and stay in that meadow forever. Just them. He helped her from the horse and let the stable boy lead their steeds to the stalls for feed and a good brushing. Brienne looked at him, her face flushing when she looked at the sky. 

“It's quite late,” she gnawed at her bottom lip. “This afternoon will be seen as improper, will it not?”

He looked directly into her eyes, “To some.” The words seemed to deflate part of her happiness. “But those who spread untruths about us, do not matter.” He took her hands in his. “Do you regret spending time with me?”

“No,” her mouth lifted in a half smile. “I do not.”

“Then let them talk. We know the truth, and in just a few days it will not be a concern at all because we will be wed.” He stepped close to her and kissed her cheek. “You will be my Lady wife and all those who want to talk can fuck off.”

She pressed her lips together to suppress a grin. “If you say so, my future Lord husband.” 

Their lips pressed chastely together. Once again, he wished to be back in the meadow so he could kiss her the way he wanted. Parting, he rested his forehead against hers and sighed. He didn't want to break the spell around them, but his conscience was telling him he needed to tell her about Tyrion. It was important that she knew this instant. He took her left hand more firmly in his right and led her toward the castle. 

They walked through the halls and he stopped at his chamber door. “Brienne,” his voice was tight and she straightened immediately in response. “I did not wish to mar your name day with news that would cause you distress, but I can not keep what I know from you. Please stay here for a moment. I must show you something.”

She nodded. Her eyes clouding over with worry. He swiftly entered his room and grabbed the scroll. His stomach jumped at the thought of giving it to her. Taking a couple deep breaths, he walked back out into the hall and handed her the missive. Brienne unrolled the parchment with shaking hands, reading the words with growing panic in her eyes. She stopped and stared at him. Her mouth flattened into a tight line.

“I have to go find her,” she said. Her voice firm. “I have to go before he harms her. And what of...” she lowered her voice to barely a whisper, “Tyrion. His life is in danger. We must save them.”

He nodded. “I know. We will, but we can not leave before we are to be wed.” Her blue eyes darkened in anger and he held up a hand. “I have already started thinking of how to help them. I have spoken with one of my closest friends in the Lannister army and a plan to get them both to safety has been put into motion... but Brienne, we can not make an enemy out of my father. We can not break our betrothal. Too many things are at stake.” He pressed his hand against her face. “Your life being one.”

“I care not for my life.”

He closed his eyes tightly, “I know.” He opened them back up and held her gaze. “Which means I have to care enough for both of us. You said you trusted me, is that still true? Even though I'm the one who asked Littlefinger to help.”

“I trust you, Jaime,” she said fiercely. “I do not blame you for you could not have known, and you did warn me that it was a risk trusting him. I blame myself for getting caught. I should have done more to protect her. I swore I would protect her.”

“There is nothing you could have done better,” he hugged her tightly to him. “We will find her. I will make Littlefinger pay for his actions and we will fulfill our vow to Lady Catelyn.” He pulled back, caressing her cheek. “This is my vow to you.” 

<<>><<>>

When the servant interrupted his meeting with his father and soon-to-be good father; his life had seemed almost perfect. He was only three days out from wedding the woman he loved. They had stolen some moments together. Brienne was blushing every time they looked at each other. He felt all powerful and proud at how she would smile a little more softly in his direction. Talk of their lost afternoon became great gossip, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He was beaming at the knowledge that she wanted him, that they were to be wed and yes, that they had partially enacted their wedding night before it was proper. If others found that wrong... well in his mind, they could fuck off as he told Brienne. 

The plans with Addam were progressing nicely. Their talks of taking the Vale were done in places away from scrutiny. Most times, while locked in combat in the training yard. They would share a word as their swords clashed, then be silent while they circled each other. Addam still brought up fighting with Brienne, especially when one day, she came to the yard with Jaime. The redhead grinned and practically begged for a chance to prove his worth. Brienne had laughed and promised that she would gladly spar with him one day. 

He was getting along quite well with Selwyn, which was a great relief. The two had a common love. Brienne. He learned about Tarth and heard some stories about her childhood. He found out about her brother's death and how she shut down a little after that. About the first time she picked up a sword, and how she could barely lift it to swing. It was going smoothly. That should have been his first clue that something was going to go wrong.

The young servant girl, about the age of Tyrion's squire- Pod, came in shaking. Her tiny hands were twisting and her lips were chapped from biting them many times. Jaime sat up straighter when she turned fearful brown eyes on him. “Mi'Lord,” she curtsied out of habit then walked quickly to his side. “Mi'Lady Brienne...”

He leapt to his feet, “What about Lady Brienne?”

“Th're has been,” she shook a little more as she spoke. “Some one has tried to harm her, Mi'Lord. Lady Genna is with her. She be very shaken.”

Jaime rushed from his father's solar without listening to whatever else the servant had to say. He walked swiftly down the halls at an almost run. He had to get to her now. He pushed some people out of his way as he moved. His mind was running in circles. All the worse things he could think of played out in horrific detail. What happened? Was she hurt? Who could want to hurt her? What if he didn't get to her in time? Did the servant say she was alright? Oh Gods...

His heart pounded hard in his chest, so hard it felt like it may end up on the floor. He reached her bedchamber, and opened the door without knocking or announcing his arrival. Brienne was staring at a pile of clothes on the floor as if the fabric was a snake about to bite her. His aunt had her hand pressed to her breast, her face white and stricken. 

“Brienne,” he eased into the room and she raised her head. Her mouth parted but no sound came out. “Are you ill? Did someone hurt you? A servant...”

She started shaking and ran into his arms. “It was awful, Jaime,” she cried into his neck. “The girl... the dress... something is...” She couldn't seem to complete a sentence. Her body shook with her sobs. 

He looked helplessly at Genna, who took a deep breath and started the story just as Tywin and Selwyn came in. Brienne pushed gently away from him and buried herself against her father's chest. Jaime wanted to pull her out of her father's arms and back into his, and never let her go.

“A young girl came in, carrying that dress.” Everyone looked down at the crumbled mess on the floor. The fabric of red and gold had little lions embroidered into the shelves. “She seemed rather surprised that Brienne and I were in the room. I guess that was because we were about to leave to go walk in the gardens. The young girl said the garment was a gift.” Genna looked pointedly at Jaime. “From you. Even had a note, telling Brienne to wear the dress at dinner tonight.”

“I would never send her a dress like that,” he turned to look at Brienne, who stared back at him. Her big blue eyes were wide but not in fear of him, he was relieved to see. “You know that, right?”

“I do.” She slowly extracted herself from Selwyn and walked over to Jaime. “I knew you would not give me a dress such as this.”

“Yes,” Genna continued. “It seems that your betrothed knows you better than the person who did send the dress. She told the servant there had been a mistake, but the young woman was quite insistent. She persisted that Lord Lannister wanted to see his future wife in the colors of her new house. It was only when she dropped the dress by accident that we realized what was going on.”

“And what is that, Genna,” Tywin demanded.

“The fabric is poisoned.” Brienne said, her voice flat, her eyes never leaving Jaime's. 

“How do you know?” Jaime asked, looking her over, checking for any signs of harm. He thanked the Seven when he found none, but he did see her rubbing at her arm. 

“The servant girl was holding the garment very precisely. Nothing was touching her skin,” Genna continued. “While I have seen garments held with care before, there was something odd about how she moved so carefully.”

“When the dress fell,” Brienne said still shaking, but not as bad. “A portion of it rubbed against the girl's arm. She dropped the dress quickly. The girl's arm...” Her eyes went back to the gown. “The scream that came out of her before she fell over... The poor girl...”

“The poor girl!” Jaime was enraged, not at Brienne, but at the fact that she could have died. He closed his eyes to get his emotions under control. She placed a hand on his cheek and he leaned into the touch. “Brienne, you could have died.”

“But I didn't,” he opened his eyes to see her smiling a little shakily at him. “It does not hurt that I know you would never try and force me to wear such a gown. Not really my taste.” 

He didn't feel much like laughing but he smiled at her anyway. She removed her hand from his cheek as Selwyn asked, “Where is the girl?”

“She was taken to the Black Cells to await her punishment,” Genna told him. 

“I will see to it her death is not a quick one. She will be made an example of,” Tywin responded without a moment's hesitation. Cersei walked into the room, eyeing the dress on the floor and Brienne in Jaime's arms. “Cersei, where is Tommen?” 

She glanced at their father, then her eyes slid back to Brienne. Jaime felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Her face was blank but her green eyes, the ones matching his own, held desperation in them. He looked down at the garment then back at his sister. The dots started connecting in his mind. She did this. The dress would have been something she would have worn. Her tastes for extravagance were perfectly shown in the garment on the floor. She aimed to kill Brienne before he could marry her. He should have expected this type of move after her failed attempt with the Septa. The rumors about what he and Brienne did during their afternoon together would have reached her ears as well. He had been too caught up in his own happiness to see the danger in front of him. The danger he exposed Brienne to.

His sister straightened her back and turned to Tywin, “He is with the Kingsguard. I placed Loras with him when I heard that Lady Brienne was nearly killed.” She walked over to them, and Jaime wanted to strike out. His fist clenched at his side. “May I inquire about what happened?”

“Brienne was targeted,” his vision went hazy with rage. He pictured Brienne painfully dying in a dress Cersei sent to her, while thinking it was from him. “There is something in the gown.”

“How awful!” his _sweet_ sister's voice was filled with false sympathy. “Do we know who did it? Has the person been caught?”

“The servant who brought the dress is in the black cells,” Tywin told her. His pale green eyes watching her closely. Cersei's eyebrow rose slightly. Her was interest heightened. Jaime swallowed roughly as all the words he wanted to say lodged in his throat.

Cersei nodded, “I will speak with the guard now. Make sure nothing else happens to Lady Brienne before her nuptials.” She left quickly and Jaime made to follow her, but Tywin stopped him. 

“I will go,” his father said. “You may want to think about changing the date of your wedding.” Jaime nodded. He would drag her to the Sept now if he could, but he knew that she was too shaken at this moment. Tonight though... Tywin leaned in close and spoke in a low voice, “Your sister will not be a problem.”

“You believe your sister tried to kill my Starlight?” Selwyn's voice deepened in anger having overheard the comment for his father. “Why would she want to harm Brienne?”

Jaime swallowed. Brienne took his hand in hers and squeezed. “Because she doesn't want me with her.” Selwyn glared at him and he stared back. “I will not let harm come to your daughter.” He turned to Brienne, “Wed me tonight. Let us make sure she will not get another chance, and start our lives together.”

“How will that stop your sister from trying to kill my daughter again?” Selwyn asked. His face red from rage, but his eyes were wide with fear for his only child. 

Jaime pulled his eyes from Brienne's reluctantly. “Because once we are wed,” he turned his attention back to Brienne. “I will never let her out of my sight if I can help it.”

She glanced at her father and a wordless conversation happened between the Tarths. He watched Brienne give her father a subtle nod and Selwyn sighed before nodding back. Whatever was discussed was settled quickly because when she turned back to him, she smiled at him and nodded, “Yes, Jaime I will marry you tonight.”

<<>><<>>

Jaime waited for her at the alter of the Sept. He looked down at his black breeches and newly shined boots. He was getting married. The reality of it hit him all at once and he felt giddy. He pulled at the red and gold cloak at his shoulders. He couldn't wait to wrap Brienne up in his colors. Yes, blue would always look best on her, but he longed to see her in something of his. 

There were not many people to witness the vows- only Genna and her Lord husband, his father and Selwyn- but Jaime did not care about that. The only one who truly mattered was standing next to her father, wearing a simple blue dress and pale rose slippers. The seamstress did a wonderful job on the even shorter time frame than she had previously. Brienne had some periwinkle flowers placed in her braided hair. A golden chain with a small starburst and a crescent moon hung from her neck. It was the only adornment she wore.

The gown hugged her long torso, flaring out gently at the waist. Her tiny breasts looked bigger in the bodice that was cut deep to enhance her form. The maiden's cloak wrapped around her shoulders was both blue- the same as her dress- and a rose color. She had a natural blush to her cheeks and her lips were lightly painted with a soft red. He smiled gently at her and she returned the expression. 

Selwyn walked her up to Jaime and stared at him. “I'm trusting you with more than just my daughter.” Jaime nodded. He understood. Brienne was his life, his only child, and he was giving her away. Giving her to a family which had tried to kill her more than once. He was trusting Jaime, and Jaime was going to do everything in his power to be worthy of that trust. Selwyn kissed Brienne on the cheek and whispered. “You will always be my little Starlight.”

When the Septon starts the ceremony, he led them all in a prayer to the Seven. Each God was given praise and was asked to bless the couple:

“May the Father always guide you on your journey. May He always show you the just path and help you lead your family with honor.”

“May the Mother nurture your union. May She grant you many children and give you peace when the times together get trying.”

“May the Maiden grant bless your union with purity. May She help you always remember to put the love of your family first.”

“May the Crone grant you both wisdom. May She guide you with her lantern so you can always find truth even in the darkness.”

“May the Smith grant you the gift of creation. May he help you build a strong family and home.”

“May the Warrior grant you both the strength to support each other and the family you will share. May He always guide your hand and protect you from harm.”

“And when the Stranger comes to guide you into death, may your souls find peace.”

The Septon turned to Selwyn and gestured for him to remove Brienne's cloak. “At this time, I ask you to remove your daughter's maiden's cloak from her shoulders.” He took the material from around her and let it hang off his thick arm. Jaime could see tears in his eyes as he removed his symbol of protection from her. He nodded at him and Selwyn returned the nod. “Lord Lannister, please place your cloak around Lady Brienne's shoulders.” 

Jaime replaced the cloak her father removed with the one from his shoulders. The red only highlighted her blushing cheeks, and he could not take his eyes off of her. The rest of the ceremony was a blur. He recalled only bits and pieces. The red ribbon around their wrists as they held hands, the words they spoke at once:

“I am hers and she is mine. From this day until the end of my days.”

“I am his and he is mine. From this day until the end of my days.”

And his favorite part. The one moment crystallized forever in his mind.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love and take you as my Lady and wife.”

“With this kiss, I pledge my love and take you as my Lord and husband.”

The Septon placed his hand on their joined ones, and said the words Jaime wanted shouted from the top of the Red Keep, “You are now man and wife. One flesh, one heart and one soul, now and forever.”

Jaime and Brienne grinned at each other, leaning in to seal their union with a kiss. His intention was to make it short- just a quick meeting of lips- but as soon as her mouth touched his, he was gone. He wrapped his hand around the back of her head and slid his tongue between her lips. She gave a small moan, only loud enough for him to hear. The sound made his blood pump harder through his veins, and he forced himself to pull back before he gave into his desire for her.

She looked dazed when they parted and he was sure he had a similar expression on his face. Her mesmerizing eyes locked on his, and he could see the arousal boiling under the surface. He took her hand in his and walked purposefully out of the Sept. They would have to endure a small feast, but then the night was theirs. 

Brienne was his. She was now his Lady of the Rock. His heart pounded wildly in his chest. He was happy.

<<>><<>>

Jaime walked down the hall toward Cersei's chamber before the feast began, strolling in with a grin etched on his face. Once the feast, began she would know what had happened only an hour before, but he wanted her to hear the words from him. He wanted to be the one who told her he was wedded to Brienne. She sat at her writing table, with a quill in hand, twirling the feather around and around in thought. Her head turned in his direction. Her jade colored eyes flicked over him and a frown settled between her eyebrows.

“A bit overdressed for supper, dear brother.”

“I might have been,” he moved away from the door and stood in the center of her room. “If I was not about to attend my wedding feast.”

She blanched. Her mouth flattened into a tight line. “Your wedding is still days away.” She stood up and headed in his direction. “Have you lost your senses?”

“No, sweet sister,” he walked closer, until they were toe to toe and she was looking up at him. “I have not. Lady Brienne is now my wife. The ceremony just took place at sunset. I regret you could not be in attendance, but it is frowned upon to invite a woman actively trying to kill the bride to the wedding.” Her eyes flashed, her cheeks flushed in rage, and the vein in her neck began to throb. 

“You have no proof,” she hissed. “I did not do anything to your beast.”

“I do not have proof,” he acknowledged. “You took care of that. Father was most impressed with how swiftly the servant girl died before he could question her. I have only come to give you a warning. If you try to harm Brienne again, I will make sure you pay for it.” His smile was ferocious. “After all, a Lannister always pays their debts.”

He turned on his heel and left the room as she threw a wine goblet at his head.

<<>><<>>

The feast, which included everyone who did not attend the wedding, ended with toasts to the couple. Jaime took a moment to speak with Tommen. The boy was sullen at not being invited to the wedding. Jaime had wanted his son there as well, but Brienne's safety was at risk. He promised the boy that he would make it up to him, that once the newly married couple was settled he would always be a welcomed guest in their home. Tommen grinned at him. Forgiveness given to his uncle swiftly, the way only an innocent child could.

Calls for a bedding ceremony rang throughout the hall. Drunk and happy guests crowded them quickly. Brienne and Jaime escaped the practice by rushing from the great hall before anyone could pull them apart. Tywin's voice calming the crowd echoed behind them as they raced through the halls- laughing like children- stopping to kiss every few steps. He was relieved when they finally reached his chamber's door. Pushing open the door, he spun them around until her back was against the hard wood. She pressed her palms to his chest, sliding them up and around his neck. 

His hands pulled at the braids in her hair, the flowers falling down at his feet. She played with the curls at the base of his skull as he kissed her again. They held each other close. Their tongues met in a duel. Dancing together, sliding against the other, claiming the other's mouth as theirs. Jaime broke from her and rested his forehead to hers. 

“My wife...” he whispered in awe.

“My husband...” she said in response.

“One flesh.”

“One heart.”

“One soul.”

“Now and Forever.” They said in unison. He kissed her again. He was in no rush. He had all night to love her and he was going to take his time.

<<>><<>>


	17. The Wedding Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The red cloak dropped to the ground and the world stopped for him. His entire being was focused on the woman in front of him. This amazing, powerful, too good for him, woman. His wife. The word filled him with peace and joy. It was so new, but felt so right. Brienne Lannister, Lady of Casterly Rock._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How you all doing? I hope I didn't offend anyone by my note at the beginning of the last chapter. I really didn't mean anything by it. I'm so thankful for all the support I have been given and am continually shocked anyone would want to read something I have written. Thank you! Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter. A lot of blood, sweat and tears (ask my beta) went into it. Thank you again!!
> 
> <<>><<>>
> 
> Thank you to Merrymaya for always being encouraging and helping me when I start to panic. You are the greatest beta!
> 
> <<>><<>>
> 
> Thank you to Ro Nordmann for the kick ass art. I love it so much!!

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48043106187/in/dateposted/)

<<>><<>>

The red cloak dropped to the ground and the world stopped for him. His entire being was focused on the woman in front of him. This amazing, powerful, too good for him, woman. His wife. The word filled him with peace and joy. It was so new, but felt so right. Brienne Lannister, Lady of Casterly Rock. His heart skipped a beat. Had he let himself, he had no doubt, he would get choked up. Jaime knew he shouldn't have this chance, that the Gods gave him a gift by letting him come back and redo his life. He was acutely aware of it all as her strong, long body pressed into his and he wrapped his arms around her.

Brienne sighed into his mouth when his tongue tangled with hers. She giggled when he grazed his fingers along her side- as he knew she would- and moaned when he touched her breasts through the material of her dress. Jaime loved every sound she made because they were only for him. They would be only for him until his last breath. No one else would know the sweetness of her lips, the honey of her cunt, the heavenly feel of her. She was _his_. He growled as he kissed her more forcibly. Brienne slid her hands down his back, tracing the straining muscles. He grew frustrated at the lack of touch. He could not really feel her and that would just not do. He broke the kiss and moved away. Her eyes- half lidded and full of desire- watched him work the buttons free on his jerkin. 

She reached behind her and he saw her bodice give a little- as the strings holding it tight loosened. His blood rushed south. His cock hardened. He licked his lips. Her skin flushed a bright red, but she did not stop until the gown was sliding down her body. Jaime felt the hunger for her grow with each new reveal of flesh. She let her dress fall to the floor, standing before him in only her smallclothes. He knew he was staring, taking her all in, but he could not help it. She was beautiful. Her creamy skin seemed to glow in the candle light. He yanked his under tunic off and dropped his hands to his pants, when her hands stopped him. He looked into her eyes. Her teeth were pulling at her bottom lip, worrying the flesh. 

“Can I,” she asked. 

Her voice was shy and also eager. He nodded. As if he could deny her anything when she looked like that. She took a deep breath and pulled at the strings holding his breeches up. She looked into his eyes. Brienne's cheeks flushed redder than he had ever seen them. He placed his hands on her waist. His thumbs traced the line of her smallclothes, back and forth. She sucked in a breath when he moved his hands slowly up her ribcage. Her head fell back, and she worked harder on getting him free from his clothes. He couldn't resist the gift she gave him so freely and sucked at the skin of her neck. He grinned against her throat as he realized; he could finally leave his mark and that was what he intended to do. Jaime ran his teeth up and down, nipping and sucking, biting and mouthing at any place he could. She moaned low and deep.

His pants fell to down his legs. He reluctantly left her to remove his boots and pants, coming back to her as soon as the items were a crumbled mess on the ground. Their bodies collided, their mouths locked together, as they couldn't get enough of the other. Jaime ran his right hand over her shoulder, down to her breast- cupping the soft flesh in his hand- as his left hand pressed her tighter against him. She gripped at his back, her right leg hooking over his hip. His cock pressed into her. He could smell her arousal. It was making his mouth water. He used his body to help steady her against the door, rocking his hips into her. Brienne panted, her eyes large.

He watched her closely. He wanted to remember everything. He wanted to have this night burned forever in his memory. Jaime licked a droplet of sweat from her neck, and her blunt nails bit into his back. “You are so fucking sexy right now,” his voice was a dark rumble. It was animalistic. The lion coming out to meet his mate. “You smell so good. I want to fuck you.”

Her hips moved harder against his at his words. He remembered how much dirty talk turned her on. He learned that she would melt into his hands, with the right words said at the right time. Jaime gripped her leg under her thigh and rolled his lower body slowly. Her blue eyes darkened and she let out a broken scream. “Oh Gods, Jaime!” She shook with her orgasm. Her first of the night. Brienne clawed at his back with one hand, and pulled his mouth to hers with the other. The kiss was sloppy and filled with promises of things to come. He picked her up off the floor, using the solid wood of the door as leverage, and forced her to lock her legs around his waist. Even while panting and coming down from her high, she worried. “I am too heavy, Jaime.” She tried to dislodge herself from him, but he held on. “I do not want to hurt you.”

He sucked at her nipple, biting the nub gently before lifting his head. “I told you Lady Brienne.” He kissed her soundly. “I am strong enough.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I know just how heavy I am. You will injure yourself. Please put me down.”

Jaime pressed her more firmly against the door, only the flimsy barrier of their smallclothes separating his cock from her cunt in the most delicious- and frustrating- way. “What will you do to make me to put you down?”

“I would think not breaking your back would be reason enough to release me.”

He rolled his hips and she gasped in pleasure. “I think you like where you are.” He started suckling at her teat again. “And I certainly have no complains.”

“Just,” Brienne bit her lip to stifle another gasp. “Wait until you can not move in the morning.”

He laughed, “You act as if we were going to leave this room anyway.” Her face flushed as his words revealed his plans for her. “I have no intention of leaving this chamber for the next day at the very least. If you truly do want me to let you back on the ground, however...”

She bit her lip before nodding. “I do. I do not wish to cause harm to my Lord husband on our first night of marriage.”

“Do you wish to hurt your Lord husband on the second night of marriage?”

Her lips lift in an amused smile. “Depends on how he acts,” she leaned forward and whispered into his ear. “I am very good with a sword.”

Jaime was shocked, but did not dare to read too much into the words. After all, his wife was great with a blade and he never heard the Brienne in Winterfell speak with such purpose. He met her eyes as she pulled back and saw a distinct glimmer in her blue orbs. His heart soared. “Now, Lady Brienne, I did not think you had it in you.”

“I suppose I have been around you for too long, Ser Jaime,” she arched her brow. “I have acquired some bad habits.”

The delight he felt at her spirited talk was almost tangible. He grinned at her. “I think I like this side of you, my Lady.” He pushed her against the door harder and kissed her with as much passion as he could. She tightened her thighs around his middle and arched into his cock. Brienne mimicked his movements from earlier, sucking on his tongue while they kissed. He pulled back in desperate need for air. “You never did tell me what you would do to have me put you down?”

She blushed harder, but did not turn away. “What do you want?”

“Oh, my perfect wife,” he shook his head. “That is a dangerous question to ask a man, especially one who is holding a half naked woman in his arms.”

She ducked her head, embarrassed, but still she said, “I did ask, did I not?”

Jaime swallowed as a million different dirty thoughts entered his mind. He knew she would do, or attempt to do anything he wished- for no other reason than it was a challenge at this point- but he did not want to use that against her. He finally settled on the most benign desire he had. “I want you to tell me what you want. What is it you fantasize about when I am not with you? I want you to describe what you think about, when it is just you and your body is pulsing with need.”

“You can not,” she stopped, her pupils blown wide with arousal at his request. “You want me to talk about...”

“Yes...” he hissed. Just thinking about hearing her voice revealing her deepest secrets to him was making him harder. She shook. Her legs and arms tightening around him again. “I want to know.”

“I do not think I can,” Brienne looked worried, as if he would find fault in her for anything she could want to do sexually. Jaime wanted to laugh. He could never find fault in her. Especially since his own past was filled with dirty secrets best left there. He knew she was innocent in practice, but she lived with men while with Renly and she must have heard things, as soldiers could be crude. “I am not sure they are normal... or maybe, it would be better to say, I do not think my thoughts are proper for a lady to have.”

“Brienne,” he sighed, letting her slide to the ground, but not letting her go. “I am your husband. I will not look down upon your desires, especially when my own have been forbidden and with good reason. No matter what, I will always respect you and will never make you feel as if your wants are something to be ashamed of.”

“It is just...” She glanced away then straightened her back and met his gaze again. “When I was in Renly's camp, I saw... things and... heard about what can-” she took a deep breath, gathering her courage to continue. “The soldiers spoke of doing things... with their... mouths. With the camp followers, I mean.”

His stomach clenched. “Tell me, Brienne.”

“There is a lot I do not know,” she twisted her fingers together nervously. “Just little pieces of conversation or quick glimpses before I turned away. I do not even know if what I think is what they were speaking of. But,” she crossed her arms over her chest in a protective manner. “I think they talked about using their tongues... on a woman... and the women... doing it to them.”

“You want me to lick your cunt?”

Her face flooded with crimson and she looked scared he might disagree. “I... It is stupid.” She ducked her head, all the confidence she had was gone, replaced by insecurities. “I have ruined everything, haven't I?”

“Gods, no!” Jaime exclaimed more aroused than before. The thought of tasting her cunt made him nearly purr with glee. She looked up startled by his response. “I want nothing more than to taste you.” He ran his gaze down her body. “All of you.”

“You...you do?”

“Fuck yes!” He pulled her to the bed and turned her so that her back was to him. He caressed her body slowly, stopping at the points he knew she liked touched. Her head fell back against his shoulder as he pinched her nipples. “I have thought about that too. I have thought about your taste on my tongue. The sweetness flooding my mouth when you reach your peak. I have dreamed of you pressing my head into your cunt, demanding more.” Her pulse jumped under his lips as he sucked at her neck. “I have thought of so many things I want to do to you.”

She reached up and gripped his hair to hold him to her. He pushed her smallclothes over her hips and down her legs. Her perfect ass pressed against his cock and he rocked into her. Jaime's hands went back to exploring her long torso, each hand going in different directions. His left cupped her small and perky breast, rolling her dusty pink nipple between his long fingers. His right slid through the curls which hid her most intimate part. The duel assault on her senses had her quivering under his touch. He felt powerful. Like a conqueror. He was claiming her. 

Her fingers in his hair tightened, as his slipped between her folds to caress the soft and wet skin. Brienne moved with the gentle thrusting of his long digit. She turned her head toward his and kissed him, pouring all of her desire for him into it. He pinched her nipple a little harder and she bit at his lip. The slight pain heightened his need and he added another finger inside of her. She panted harshly into his mouth. Her body clenching and releasing around his thrusting digits. Wetness covered his hand more and more, her scent filled the air. He rolled his tongue at the exact time he did a particularly purposeful thrust, finding that spot within her, and she let out a scream of pleasure. 

“Jaime.” His name was a prayer. Asking him for more. Needing him to give her everything. He would. If she asked him to climb the tallest mountain and capture the moon, he would make it his objective to find a way. “Please...”

He pulled his fingers from her and turned her to face him. His green eyes moved over her body slowly. She was the embodiment of a warrior goddess. Her strong features showed her power. Muscles under flesh, coiled and tight, belied the gentleness of her heart. He loved her contradictions. He praised the Seven that no one else had taken the time to see her. Really see _her_. It made him feel like he was holding a secret treasure that the rest of Westeros was too stupid to see.

“You are perfect,” he could not stop the words from coming out, even if he wanted to, which he did not. He wanted her to know that she was everything to him. Not just in that moment, but in every breath he took. She ducked her head. She still didn't believe him. Years of being beaten down, convinced her that she would never attract any man, that and that she was too ugly to be loved. It was a mountain between them. Jaime curled a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him in the eyes. “One day, you will believe my words as truth. One day, you will know yourself as I know you.”

Brienne licked her lips, pulling the bottom one into her mouth for a moment before releasing it. “You are the only one who thinks that I am anything but ugly... other than my father.”

“Oh Brienne,” he moved forward to kiss her slowly. He took his time, letting her feel every movement of his tongue and lips. He worshiped her with his mouth. Jaime pulled back to rest his forehead against hers. “The world is filled with blind fools. Do not let their words color the truth. The only opinions which matter- in this chamber and out of it- are yours and mine. How do you feel when I touch you here?” He trailed his fingers down the long, thick column of her throat to the top of her breasts.

Her breath caught. “Wanted.”

“Yes, I want you, so much,” he nodded emphatically. He moved his hands lower toward her flat stomach. “And here?”

“Like I am on fire.”

He grinned, his lips curling back to show his teeth. He took his hands from her body and just stared. She shifted under his gaze. He asked her in a low, rumbling voice, “How do you feel when I look at you as I am now?”

Brienne swayed. Her cheeks, which were already a deep red, got redder. Her eyes become hooded. A current of desire crackled in the air. “Like you want to devour me.”

He pounced. His body wrapped around her, as his lips kissed hers in a sloppy, untamed and dirty way. He moved her to fall on the bed. Their lips only breaking apart once, while she crawled up the mattress and he followed. “I do want to devour you, Brienne.” He kissed her again. The duel of tongues and clashing of lips making a smacking sound in the otherwise silent room. He drug his mouth down her throat, talking to her as he went. “I want to cover your body in my marks. I want this whole fucking city to know that you were well fucked by your Lord husband.” He pressed her small breasts together, licking between them. “I want every woman to wonder why they can not be half as amazing as you are. I want them to know that you drive me crazy with wantonness.” She arched up as his took her entire right breast in his mouth. Her cries of need spurred him on. She clutched at the bed linen and his back. She clawed at his skin and twisted her fingers in his hair. Jaime moved down mouthing at the muscles of her abdomen, nipping at her hip bones. “I want the men of this Gods awful place to realize they will never have anyone like you and seethe with fury over that.”

Jaime finally made it to her cunt. She was squirming when he swiped his tongue against her. She howled, arching into him. Her vagina was dripping and he licked again, savoring the flavor of her. Her curls tickled his nose as he buried his face more deeply. The taste of her was like the most potent wine. He was getting drunk on her essence and wanted more. 

“Oh Gods,” her hands settled on the back of his head, holding him to her, just as he told her he wanted her to do. “Please, Jaime. Oh,” Brienne's control was breaking. Her voice was like honey. Thick and sweet. Everything about her was sweet. He stroked his tongue up her labia to her clitoris. She angled her body toward his in response. He did it again and again, slowing down on the upward motion and then speeding back up. He flattened his tongue against the bundle of nerves then curled it around the nub, sucking. Brienne bucked up, her fingers tightening. “Please, please, please, yes, oh fuck, yes.”

He grinned, sucking harder and inserting two fingers. They slid in easily. He started out slowly. He did not want her to climax too quickly. He was enjoying this too much. There was a part of him which relished in making her melt into his hands. It was the same part which wanted to mark her, brand her as his. It was a possessive need to have her bend to his will. Jaime knew that she had the same power over him though. And Brienne would learn that as well soon enough. He would already do anything for her. He could only imagine how he would feel once they have fucked in this life. He would be her puppet on a string. Only, unlike Cersei, she would not use that to manipulate him. Again he wondered why he was given this chance to change all the stupid, fucked up mistakes he made...

Sweat mixed with the wholly unique taste of her in his mouth. He looked up at her from his position between her legs. Her eyes were shut tightly, her mouth was slightly parted, her breasts were rising and falling with each deep breath she took. Her stomach muscles worked with each rotation of her hips. It was breathtaking to watch her in complete abandon. He sped up the thrusting of his fingers in her cunt. One of her hands left his hair and she bit down on the fleshy part of her palm as she released a loud whine. Jaime replaced his fingers with his tongue, using the digits to hold her open. He wanted her to reach her peak from his mouth just as she had requested. 

He pressed his hips hard against the mattress. His cock was throbbing. He longed to slide his hard member into her wet warmth and finally take what she was offering him. The walls of her cunt squeezed around his tongue, a sign that she was about to climax, and he knew it was time to up the assault on her precious clit. Jaime rolled the nub between his fingers and twisted his tongue in a way that would hit that sweet spot inside of her. Brienne screamed his name. Jaime smirked as his mouth was flooded with her bittersweet nectar. 

“Fuck! Jaime!” Her loudness filled him with male pride. Anyone close to their chamber would hear her exclamation of pleasure. They would know he was making her feel like the sexy, desirable woman she was and he loved it. “Oh my Gods. Please. Fuck!”

Lapping at her, he felt his smirk slide into a full grin. He wrapped his arms around her hips to keep her steady as the shocks worked through her. He looked up at her again and saw her hair in complete disarray, chucks stuck to her sweaty forehead. Her eyes were still closed tightly, that was his one regret. He wanted to see how blue and deep they were. Her lips were broken and bleeding from her biting at them so much. Sweat was pooling between her breasts and in the dip of her stomach. The last of her peaks rolled through her and she slowly opened her eyes. He pulled his mouth from her cunt with a filthy pop and sucked the saltiness from her flesh. She purred deep in her throat, like the lioness she was.

He continued his trek up her body, stopping to worship her teats, cupping and nipping at the mounds. He sucked deeply at the curve of her neck, biting down just enough to bruise but not enough to hurt. Brienne wrapped her arms and legs around him. The heat from her body was making him perspire. Finally, he made it back to her lips and slanted his mouth over hers, shoving his tongue in as soon as she opened hers up. She kissed him back roughly. It was a passionate fight, between two dueling warriors. It heated his blood and he wondered how he could have lived without this for so long... and how he could have left it. 

They broke apart panting. Their chests brushed together with each inhale. Jaime grinned at her dazed and content expression. He rolled onto his back, wrapping her up in his arms. “Well, Lady Lannister,” he traced a line up and down her spine, getting closer and closer to the curve of her ass. “Was it all you believed it would be? I certainly believe you enjoyed yourself from the screams.”

“Bumptiousness is most unbecoming, Lord Lannister,” she arched her eyebrows at him, resting her chin on his chest. 

“Is it being cocksure when I heard you scream my name so many times and so loudly with my own two ears?” He shrugged.

She blushed, dipping her head down, hiding her face. “Was I really that loud?”

“Do not feel ashamed,” he tipped her face up from his chest. “I love hearing you. I love knowing I have made you feel as desirable as you are.” He cupped her face in his hand. “Do not ever stop.” Jaime smirked at her. “In fact, it would please me greatly if you roared louder.” She rolled her lips together to stop from smiling. “You did not answer my question though. Was it all you wished it would be?”

Brienne narrowed her eyes, “I do not wish to expand your already impressive ego, but I must tell the truth.” She moved up his body until they were face to face. “It was better than I imagined.” She caressed his sides as she leaned down to kiss him roughly. He smiled into her mouth. He liked that she was taking control. He wanted his powerful warrior on the battlefield and in the bedchamber. She released his lips and mouthed at his jawline. Her right hand holding his head still as she bit at the skin. It was his turn to moan. Her hands gripped his sides, slipping her thumbs under the band of his smallclothes. Her intention became clear to him and he stopped her. She raised her head in confusion. “What? Do you not want me to...?”

“Brienne,” Jaime leaned up and she sat back straddling his waist. He had to swallow roughly at the positioning. His cock was begging him to let her continue but he needed to be sure she was positive she wanted this. “You do not have to do this if you do not want to...”

“Jaime,” she paused her eyes darting away for a moment before returning back to his. “When I spoke of what I thought about, I did not mean it was only... what you did to me that I imagined. I also...” Brienne flushed crimson, her chest coloring to match her face. “I also want to touch you.”

His heart skipped in his chest and he was sure he stopped breathing. Her innocent omission was enough to send him right to the Stranger. He touched her face, caressing the fullness of her cheek. “I do not know what I did to deserve this time with you. I am quite convinced I do not really. But I am so thankful that the stars misaligned so to make you lapse into madness and decide to be my wife.” She laughed at him, but there was some moisture in her striking blue eyes. He smiled gently at her. 

“I am sure the madness will pass soon and I will come to regret my foolish choice,” she quipped. 

“Oh, that will happen for certain,” he acknowledged, then grinned his predatory smile. “But I will never let you go, so you are stuck with me as your Lord husband.”

She pushed him back against the pillows and hovered over him for a moment. Her perky teats were right above his mouth and he refused to ignore that. They were too tempting. He angled his head up and captured a nipple between his lips. His hands grabbed her bare ass, squeezing the firm globes and he rolled his hips against hers. She arched her back. Brienne cried out and pressed her hands hard into his chest. 

“Not fair,” she panted. 

He released her supple breast and grinned at her. “What are you going to do about it?”

She arched an eyebrow, seeing the challenge for what it was and moved down his body. Her hands and mouth followed the lines of his muscles. She mimicked what he had done to her. She sucked and licked at his chest. Taking each nipple into her mouth and flicking the bud with her tongue. Jaime stared at the ceiling, panting, trying to keep from losing all control before she even touched the part of him which was aching the most. She shimmied down a little further- until she was between his legs- and looked up at him through her lashes. 

Brienne grinned at him, moving off the bed. She leaned forward and hooked her thumbs into the band of his smallclothes, pulling them off his body. He lifted his hips up to help her. The material fell from her hand once they were removed completely and she stared at him. Her eyes got wide and her pink tongue came out to wet her lips. Jaime was convinced no one looked as delectable as she did in that moment. She crawled back up the bed and settled on her knees, just looking. She glanced up and he saw her nerves.

“You will tell me if I do something wrong or something you do not like?”

 _Yes,_ Jaime thought through his muddled mind. _I am going to meet the Stranger before the night is complete._ Raising up, he looked deeply into her eyes. “I will,” he said. “But trust me, Brienne, there is very little you could do to me at this moment that I will not enjoy.” 

She rushed forward and kissed him quickly on the lips. “Lay back,” she tucked some hair behind her ear. “I do not think I can do this with you watching me.”

He wanted to protest, but swallowed back his desire to watch her take him in her mouth. He will hopefully have other opportunities to enjoy the sight of her sucking his cock. He eased back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling again. Her rough hand curled around his member and he jerked. Jaime let out a growl so deep and primal it sounded like a lion's roar. She gave his cock a couple of strokes with her hand before he felt her breath against him. The hot, damp air on the head of his penis sent a shiver down his spine. He held his breath and waited.

She did not leave him waiting long. Her tongue moved down his straining flesh, before slowly sliding back up, tracing the vein. She repeated the motion, each time lingering a little longer at the tip. Jaime curled his hands into the thin material of the cotton sheet. His body tense with holding back. Brienne closed her mouth around the head of his cock and sucked softly.

“Harder,” he growled out. “Please, harder.”

She nodded while holding him in between her lips. Her large hand gripped the bottom half of his erection and Brienne sucked harder at the sensitive skin. He closed his eyes tightly, breathing evenly through his nose and he tried to think of anything but the heavenly feel of her sucking him. Her lips moved down to meet her hand. It was too much. Jaime was drowning in the hot cavern of her mouth. Soon, she continued to drive him to the brink of madness by twisting her head and hand slightly as they pulled apart. 

His eyes snapped open and he realized he was very close to his climax. He pushed gently against her shoulders and she released his cock. He stared at her in awe. She returned the look in confusion. She panted lightly, he more harshly. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Fuck, no!” he looked down at his throbbing appendage. “You were doing _everything_ right.”

“Then why...”

“Brienne,” he ran a hand down his face. He was sweating and his heart was still pounding. “I was very close to reaching my end and I did not want you to be surprised.”

Her blue orbs widened and she leaned forward. “I know.”

“You know, how,” he questioned.

“I have seen you at that moment before,” she said shyly. “In the meadow. I saw how your body moved and I...” She bit her lip. “I have seen men peak before... in Renly's camp. They were not shy about doing that in front of me. I think some took pleasure in seeing me uncomfortable.”

 _Right_ he thought. _I should have remembered that she has seen stuff before._ “Still you did not have to...”

“I wanted to,” she replied in a rush. “I still want to.” Her shyness took hold again. “I mean, if it would please you.”

 _I wonder what they will say at my funeral. Here lies Jaime Lannister: fighter, Kingsguard member, Lord of Casterly Rock for a moment, killed by the sweet, sinful mouth of his beloved Lady wife. May he rest in peace._ He grabbed her roughly by the back of the neck and kissed her senseless. “If I survive this night,” he whispered against her smiling lips. “I will gift you with whatever armor you so desire and have the smith make you thirty Valyrian swords.”

She laughed at his nonsensical promise and kissed him back. She did not know that right before the wedding, his father had presented her sword to him again. Tywin never once smiled but did tell him, _I would not have picked her for you son. She is not who I thought of. But I am not a fool. You have chosen well._ That was as close to an, _I approve_ or _I am proud of you_ as he would get. And frankly, he did not give a fuck if Tywin approved or not. For the first time, Jaime was thinking for himself and he was happy. 

Brienne moved back to her position between his thighs and took him back in her hand. This time she did not ask him not to look. Instead, they locked eyes. She opened her lips slowly, enveloping him back in her mouth. She started her rhythm again. Up and down, twist slightly, repeat. Jaime nearly came at the sight but held on for he did not want it to end. He wanted this image branded in his mind for all eternity. His body tensed as his climax built again. 

She tightened her hold around him, sucking just a little bit more forcibly. He held the back of her head with one hand and the sheet under him with the other. “Fuck! Fuck! Brienne,” he bellowed out. “Fuck, yes!” With one more downward twist of her head, he exploded. His mind went blank and he screamed her name to the heavens. Everything fell away and all that remained was them. Jaime closed his eyes as he rode out one of the most intense moments of his life. She raised her head and he looked at her. Brienne licked her lips and stared steadily at him. His body felt like jelly but he forced himself up and wrapped his arms around her. He turned them so that she was under him again and claimed her lips. He pulled back, “You are never leaving our bedchamber. Whether it is here, or at Casterly Rock, or on your island of Tarth. I am sorry Lady Brienne, but you are staying in my arms.”

She laughed so loudly he joined her. “You think you can stop me for doing as I wish.”

“No,” he admitted. “But I _will_ try and wear you out so much, you will not be able to move.” He tickled her side and she tried to move away. “Would you like me to show you?”

Brienne touched the side of his face softly, “I am sorry, Lord Lannister, but I will not be chained to the bed. I have a girl to find and you have an oath to keep.”

He pretended to be put out by her words, but nothing could take him from this high he was on. He yawned into her shoulder and she laughed again. His body was showing it's age. He remembered being able to go for much longer but when he lifted his head, he noticed that she was starting to get a little sleepy too. Jaime reached down and grabbed one of the furs at the bottom of the bed, covering them with it. She snuggled against him as he wrapped his arms around her. 

Jaime listened to her breath even out. He took the time to look over her. He smiled to himself at the marks all over her skin. He might have gotten a little carried away, but he did not regret a single one. He only hoped his good father would not kill him once he saw his precious daughter again. He kissed her bare shoulder one last time before giving over to his own exhaustion. When they woke up, he would give her back Oathkeeper and they would continue their night of passion. They deserved it. Brienne deserved it.

<<>><<>>

Jaime awoke first, feeling the slight chill in the room. His limbs felt loose and his body relaxed. He rolled onto his side and opened his eyes to look at Brienne. She was on her side as well, facing him. Her hands were clasped together under her cheek. Her lips were lifted slightly in a soft smile. The fur had fallen down from their shoulders and was only covering their lower bodies. His eyes followed the curve of her side. He cataloged every freckle, scar and birth mark that he could see on her body.

He examined the cuts on her chest. The ones from the guards and his blood boiled. He had not forgiven nor forgotten her treatment in the black cells. His thanked the Gods she was not raped, but knowing that she was hurt at all, filled him with a special type of rage. It was fueled even hotter by the what his family had done or had allowed to happen to her. It was a small wonder Lord Selwyn agreed to their marriage at all, but Jaime would not question that. He would just be happy that his good father did agree to the union. And that Brienne consented as well. 

Brienne sighed in her sleep, “Jaime.”

He smirked at hearing his name. Moving closer, he softly pressed his lips to her neck. He followed the bites he left there hours before. She moaned as he nipped at a particularly dark one. That would be hard to cover with her normal tunics and she did not have the length of hair Cersei and other noble women did. The dark pride he felt at her having to wear his marks so predominantly should make him feel ashamed... but it didn't. Like he told her, he wanted the world to know she was well fucked and well loved by her besotted husband. 

Jaime kept caressing her body with his lips and hands, bringing her slowly to consciousness. Her body angled toward him and her breathing changed the more awake she became. He pulled back and met her sleepy gaze. “Hello,” she whispered.

“Hello,” he answered back. “Did you sleep well, my Lady?”

“Hmm,” she stretched her arms above her head and grinned. “I was until my Lord husband decided to disturb my slumber.”

“I am quite certain,” Jaime slowly brought his lips toward hers. “He did try and restrain himself, but seeing you naked and covered in his love bites made it impossible.”

She pulled away before he could fully close the gap between them. “Covered?”

“Um-hum,” he nodded and gently touched each bruise. “Here and here.” He moved lower and touched a spot right above her left breast, she looked to the place where his finger grazed her skin. “Here.” He slid his hand under the fur and touched a spot on her hip, “I think there are several here as well.”

“Jaime,” she exclaimed and leapt from the bed to the looking glass in the corner of the chamber. He watched her pert and firm ass as she analyzed all the marks on her skin. He smothered a grin and placed his hands behind his head, waiting for her reaction. She spun around and glared at him. “How will I cover these? I will be talked about and laughed at.”

He sat up, holding out his hand to her. She continued to glare but came back to the bed and his arms. He kissed her temple. “If anyone utters an ill word against you, it will be done in a fit of jealousy. To many of these gossiping old fools have no love in their life to speak of, and would kill for someone to leave proof of their passion on their skin.” She looked up at him from her lower position and he kissed her slowly. “I am proud to have you as my wife. Besides, I remember telling you that I wanted to mark you earlier.” Her eyes narrowed briefly in thought, then widened when she realized he was telling the truth. He grinned at her. “So you can not be mad.”

“You have bites from me as well,” she said quietly. 

“Yes,” he trailed kisses over her shoulders. “You were quite the wanton woman.”

“Do you mind?” She sighed out a moan as he got closer to her breasts.

“No,” he shook his head, latching onto a nipple. “I will show all who wish to see.” He released her nipple. “If you wish to add more, I have plenty of skin untouched.”

She laughed and pushed against him. “I believe I have married a madman.”

“I would agree with that, but you said yes to this madman, so what does that say about you?”

Brienne stopped laughing and her face softened. “That I am possibly just as mad as him.”

“Many would say it is a perfect match.”

“Many would say,” she cupped his face in her hand and ran her thumb across his lips. “Beauty married the beast.”

“You would be right again. They would and probably will.” Her eyes darted away, as pain flashed across her features. “A beautiful soul _did_ marry a beastly one. You, my Lady, have wed what some consider a monster.”

Her blue eyes are wet when they met his again. “You are not a monster, Jaime.”

“And neither are you, Brienne.”

He knew it would take time for her to really believe that. One night of him telling her would not wipe away the pain of many rejections and cruel words. He also knew he would make it a mission, to remind her everyday that she was perfect and beautiful to him. If he had to tell her every morning, noon and night, he gladly would. Brienne continued to caress his lip, slowly bringing her mouth closer to his. The kiss they shared was slow and sensual. Her confidence in this art was growing and he could tell the difference. She rolled onto her back, pulling him on top of her. She opened her legs and he settled between them.

His cock swelled at the feel of her heat, and he reached down between them to test her readiness. She was still damp from their previous activities but he wanted her to be more prepared. He was not fooling himself into believing this would not hurt her, he was just determined to make it as painless as possible. She arched her hips into his palm and he inserted one finger. She closed her eyes, rocking slightly. Jaime felt her channel become slicker and added a second finger, to stretch her a bit more. Brienne softly mewled, her breath catching. She reached down between them, taking his throbbing member in her hands. He dropped his head to the pillow next to her shoulder, groaning at the sweet torture of her hands on his cock.

He lifted his head, kissing her soundly, “I thought you were not planning to kill me on our wedding night.” 

“And I thought you said you were strong enough.” Jaime loved these small glimpses of her self-assurance. He just needed to bring them forth more often.

“Are you questioning my abilities in the bedchamber?”

“You are the one complaining about dying, my Lord.”

Jaime smirked. “Is this a challenge?”

“If you take it as such,” Brienne smirked back at him. 

And he did. He thrust his fingers slowly inside of her again. She closed her eyes as the pleasure built. He used his thumb to simulated her clit while adding a third finger. She tensed and her eyes sprang open. He noticed the change and removed the extra digit. She relaxed again when it was just the two. Jaime knew he would have to get her used to more or she would be in too much pain to enjoy the coupling. He moved his mouth over hers, pressing a little more firmly on her clitoris. She arched up, rocking her hips in time with his thrusting fingers. 

Jaime kept the pace steady, watching her closely for any discomfort. She bit her lip as her hands returned to his body. Brienne threaded her fingers through his hair with one hand and slid the other over the plains of his chest and back. He eased up the tempo of his hand and once again attempted to add a third finger. This time she was not as tense, but she did shift a little bit in discomfort.

“I am sorry,” he whispered against her lips. “I want you to be ready for me. I do not want to hurt you anymore than I have to.”

She nodded her head and took several breaths. “You have already been kinder than what I was led to believe my Lord husband would be with me.”

That made him still. “What did you hear, Brienne?”

“My...” she shook her head. “I was told to be quiet and lay back. That the candles should be extinguished if at all possible. I should not expect to enjoy my wedding night. That I should realize the man I would marry would only be doing his duty.” Brienne looked at him. “You have already proven those words wrong. I know that this will hurt, but you have already given me so much pleasure Jaime. You have already put my fears to rest on more than one occasion. I know you will be gentle now.”

Jaime's heart broke and swelled all at once. He hated that she had suffered so much. She should be bitter and mean with all the taunts thrown at her. She should be as dark hearted as Cersei, but she wasn't. Somehow, she overcame the hurtful words and kept her soft heart. Once again, he marveled at her strength and thanked The Warrior for this chance. 

He prepared her body for his a little longer until she pushed his hand away. Her face was determined, her jaw set. “I am ready. I want you to fuck me.”

That was all he needed to know and he pressed the head of his cock at her entrance. He started with shallow thrusts to get her used to the weight and the feel of him. Her body tightened up when he first pressed into her. He knew which clues to look for from his time in Winterfell. The Brienne in his other life had had the advantage of wine to help her loosen up but even then, she had been uncomfortable during their first time. He could still remember the way she had turned her head to hide the tears from him. The wine had been flowing through his veins heavily that night as well, so all he could hope for, was that he had given her some pleasing moments.

The slow roll of his hips continued until she bowed as her body adjusted. Her hands slid down and grabbed his ass, urging him to push harder. He held his breath, increasing the speed of his hips. She was so fucking tight and he was in bliss at the feel of her surrounding him. He knew it would only get better. He pressed further inside her on his next thrust. Her inner walls contracted around his cock and she tensed up. 

“Brienne,” he slid both of his hands into her hair and kissed her forehead. “Relax. It will only hurt for a moment, I promise.” She nodded, holding onto him tightly. After taking a deep breath, he thrust completely inside of her, ripping her maidenhead. She screamed in pain and his heart broke at the sound. He stilled this movements, kissing the tears from her cheeks. “I am sorry. It will get better.” Brienne nodded again.

“I trust you, Jaime,” she said through clenched teeth. “It is not so bad. I have felt worse pain. Just... can you please go slow?” 

He agreed and started moving slowly again. His thrusts were measured and careful. He wanted to make this moment special for her. He kissed her temples, her closed eyelids, her cheeks, and then finally her lips. She did not move with him at first but after some time she began to lift her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. He reached down and rolled her clit with his pointer finger and thumb. She moaned loudly and pressed harder into him. The heat between them increased and sweat gathered on their skin. Brienne's eyes and mouth opened wide as he hit that sweet spot in her. 

“Ooh,” she moaned. “Jaime...” He did it again and her reaction was even stronger. “Oh Gods.”

He was in danger of climaxing before her. The tightness around his cock made it hard to hold back, but he did his best to slow building ecstasy. Jaime knew it was time to use the knowledge he had gleaned from his time in that frozen wasteland to his advantage. He reached down with his left hand and cupped the back of her thigh, hooking her right leg high over his hip. Brienne gasped at the change in angle and pushed herself closer to him. Her fingernails dug in his skin a little more deeply and her moans got louder again. He caressed the smooth skin of her inner thigh, up her tone stomach then back down again. He found that Brienne loved to be touched during sex and frankly so did he.

Next he dropped his head down to her breasts and sucked hard at her nipples. The added sensations made her scream out and her inner walls spasm around his cock. She pressed the heel of her foot into the base of his back and stilled. Jaime watched the waves of pleasure crash over her. Brienne once again called his name loudly as she rode out the feelings. He did not get to enjoy seeing her like that for long because his own rapture came soon after. His cock jerked in her cunt, spilling his seed deep within her. 

Brienne pulled him down on top of her as the last of the shocks faded from their bodies. Jaime did not want to leave the comfort of her embrace, but knew he had to. He carefully climbed out of her arms. She protested him moving and that almost stopped him... He loved being wrapped in her embrace as much as she loved being in his, but he got up anyway and walked over to the small basin in the corner of their chamber. He dipped two pieces of white cloth into the cool water, wringing out the excess. 

When he turned back around, Brienne was sitting up watching him. He returned to her side, placing one piece of fabric on the small table next to him and ran other over her slightly bloody thighs. She stayed silent as he cleaned her of his seed and her maiden's blood. He met her eyes once he was finished and noticed the tears gathering in the corners. She cupped his face in both of her hands, kissing him deeply. Jaime returned the kiss, dropping the cloth to the ground. He stood up to clean himself just as she reached out.

“Let me,” she said, looking up at him. He swallowed at the way her eyes were shining at him. “Please.” 

Jaime nodded and climbed on the bed next to her, laying on his back. Brienne ran her hand down his chest, biting her lip. She grabbed the second damp cloth he brought from the table, gently cleaning him as he had cleaned her. 

He did not think it was that big of a gesture. He just wanted her to be comfortable. But from the way her hands shook and her eyes glazed over with water, he guessed he was wrong in his belief. She finished gently wiping the evidence of their union from his body and let the cloth fall to the floor with the one he had used. Brienne snuggled into his side, tracing patterns into the skin of his chest.

“You are a good man, Jaime,” she said softly. “I know you do not always believe that, but you are. Little things, like what you just did, prove it to me.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. She looked at him and smiled. “I am proud to have you as my Lord husband.”

It had been a long time since he cried, but her faith in him, her words about his goodness, made him well up. Those words from another would not mean as much. From her... they meant everything.

<<>><<>>

The sun was just breaking over the horizon when someone knocked at their chamber door. Jaime stared blurry eyed at the offending sound. Brienne rolled away from him and started to sit up. He placed a hand on her shoulder, “Go back to sleep. I will take care of this.”

She yawned and nodded her head, curling onto her side. Jaime got up from the bed and searched the floor for his smallclothes. The simpleton knocked again, more insistently. He gave up on trying to find his smallclothes and just slipped his pants on, leaving them mostly undone. If this asshole saw more of him than he wanted, well fuck him. Jaime was supposed to be naked and in bed with his wife.

He pulled open the door, just as the man on the opposite side was about to knock again. “What the fuck do you wan-” Jaime stopped at the sight of who had interrupted his wedding night. “Addam?”

“I am sorry, Jaime,” Addam called out to Brienne from the door. “Lady Brienne.” Jaime turned to see her sitting up in bed, holding the fur blanket to her naked chest. “You know I would not disturb you if I did not feel it was urgent.”

Jaime nodded, “Just give me a moment.” 

He closed the door on Addam. He did not relish his friend seeing his wife in her state of undress, but he also could not have others hear what the soldier had to say. He moved over to the bed, handing Brienne her robe. She quickly slipped it on as he walked back to open the door again and motioned his friend inside.

“Addam,” she said softly. Addam stood taller in her presence and nodded in her direction. Her big blue eyes were filled with concern. “Is this about Sansa or Tyrion?”

“Both actually,” Addam spoke as any soldier would. He laid out the facts for his commander. “There has been movement at the Vale. Lady Lysa Arryn has been killed. Littlefinger _is_ at the Vale- as we thought- with a young girl. From what I have heard, she does not have red hair, but the timing seems to suggest that it is most assuredly Sansa Stark.” Jaime nodded. This time, Addam paused and looked directly at Jaime. “There is a dwarf's head being sent to the Queen Regent. Your father has made it an official order for the heads to be sent to the Red Keep for identification. Since your brother has been declared a traitor to the crown for helping Sansa escape. Others have been sent before, but this one...” He paused again, clearly uncomfortable and Jaime's stomach dropped open. “They say he looks like Tyrion Lannister. They say your brother is dead.”

Jaime's world crashed to his feet.

<<>><<>>


	18. A New Journey Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jaime felt cold. His body was gripped by a pain he had never known before. All of his euphoria at finally being with Brienne, of making her his wife, was washed away. He shook with grief that he could not release. He could not, would not, cry. He had to be strong._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been a long time coming and I apologize for that. I have been going through some serious writer's block for this story, but finally broke through enough to get this chapter complete. I do hope it is worth the wait. Thank you to all of you that have read, left comments and/or kudos. I am so thankful for each one of you. Please let me know if this chapter is good, bad or ugly. I always enjoy reading your comments. Thank you again for your patience with me. ❤️
> 
> \----------------------
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta, Merrymaya, who kept encouraging me when I was struggling. Thank you for giving your time to help me make this chapter as good as it could be. She has some incredible stories on AO3 right now. Please go check them out: ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/20541206/chapters/48757109 ), ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/20299276/chapters/48121996 ) and ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495738/chapters/48638486 )
> 
> \----------------------
> 
> Thank you to Ro Nordmann for the beautiful art work and for also being a wonderful source of encouragement. Her work never fails to take my breath away. She is also a talented writer and has stories on here as well. Please go and check them out: ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/20493683/chapters/48632951 ) and ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500058/chapters/48649883 )
> 
> \----------------------

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48043106187/in/dateposted/)   


<<>><<>>

_They say he looks like Tyrion Lannister. They say your brother is dead._

Jaime felt cold. His body was gripped by a pain he had never known before. All of his euphoria at finally being with Brienne, of making her his wife, was washed away. He shook with grief that he could not release. He could not, would not, cry. He had to be strong. He had to _think_. This was only speculation. No one knew if the dwarf was really Tyrion. His brother was smart...

_But even the smartest have fallen,_ a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Jaime swallowed against the nausea he that was rising in his throat. He felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind. Steadying him. He did not realize he was swaying until her strength encircled him. He placed his hands on hers against his stomach and looked at Addam. His friend watched the two lovers carefully. His warm brown eyes widened with understanding. This was not a marriage between friends. This was a union between two people destined to be together. Jaime did not realize Addam was not aware of his deep feelings for Brienne until that moment. Maybe he knew Jaime cared, but since he had never said the word _love_ his friend did not comprehend the intensity of his affection for her. And hers for him. Brienne pressed a chaste kiss between his shoulder blades and Jaime felt some of the coldness ebb away.

He could face this. With her at his side, he could face this. She pulled away slightly. He wanted to pull her back but knew that she was uncomfortable with public displays of affection... even if this was not public at all. She would come to him again after Addam left and he would fall into her loving arms. He needed her now more than ever. 

“Addam,” she said quietly. “Do you believe it could be Lord Tyrion? You have been around the soldiers and I know how much they like to talk from my own time surrounded by the ones from Renly's camp.”

“I do not know, My Lady,” Jaime almost smiled at her barely concealed grimace. She would never warm to being called a _lady_. “I know that other heads have been sent to the capital, but this one is the first that has gotten the attention of many close to the crown.”

“You can say it, my friend,” Jaime said with only a touch of bitterness. “Cersei. The heads have been sent to Cersei.” The anger grew in his soul. His twin was gleefully hoping to place their baby brother's head on a pike for a crime he did not commit. It was cruel and despicable and completely in line with who she had become. The blackness the Gods spoke about became clearer with each passing day. He took a deep breath. His mind was restless and his body was pulsing with a mixture of pain and anger. “Thank you for telling us, Addam. Please start getting the troops ready to leave. We need to get to the Vale. I might not be able to save Tyrion,” he looked at Brienne, who was staring at him with those incredible blue eyes. “But we can still get Sansa home.”

“It might not be Tyrion,” Brienne told him, reaching out to hold his hand. “It could be another. Let us not grieve just yet.”

“Would you like me to let you know if it is in fact your brother?”

“No,” Jaime shook his head. “I want to be there. If it is Tyrion, I want to see for myself and have a moment. If it is not, I want to know what their next moves will be. I may not be as sly as the spider, but I have been trained to be watchful and know my opponents.”

“I will be there as well, My Lord,” Brienne squeezed his hand. “You will not face this alone.”

Addam looked between the two and a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I shall leave you. I am most sorry to have interrupted your wedding night with such grim news.” He bowed to Brienne, “Lady Lannister.” Jaime felt Brienne jolt a little. It was one of the first times she had been referred to by her official title. It filled Jaime with pride at hearing it. Addam turned to Jaime, “Jaime...” He turned around and left the newlywed couple.

Brienne slid her arms around him and he cradled her close. “I believe your brother is still alive, Jaime. I did not know him well, but I do know he is clever. He will find a way to survive until we can reach him.”

He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering there. “You truly believe that?”

She nodded her head, her breath warm against his skin and he started to react. His blood rushed with desire for her. He did not believe he would ever stop wanting her. Even now while in pain over what could have happened to his brother, he wanted to be buried deep inside of her. Within her, he felt the most at peace. Brienne was his oasis in the raging storm. She lifted her head from his shoulder and bit her lip.

From the look in her eyes, he knew she felt his cock harden at the closeness of her warm and supple body. She hesitated only a moment before leaning forward to press her lips to his. He welcomed the softness of her kiss. It was not forceful or demanding. It was innocent and inviting. He walked them back to the bed, pulling at the sash of her robe as he went. The garment dropped to the ground, a puddle of black material at their feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her chest into his. Her nipples were hard, calling for his attention. Jaime could not deny her anything. 

His hands slid up her body from her waist to her breasts, cupping the small mounds. She moaned and arched into him. He deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between her lips. Brienne pressed more firmly against him. His cock strained against the stiff material of his pants and he reluctantly let go of her to remove them. She watched him, her hungry eyes devouring him. If he was not already aroused, that look, the feel of her eyes, would have sent him there.

Coming back to her, they climbed on the bed together. He pulled her over him, enjoying the weight of her pressing him into the mattress. She lifted her head and stared down at him. “Is this wrong?”

He pushed her hair from her face. “What do you mean, my lovely wife?”

“Doing this,” she sat up, her naked cunt was almost on his stomach. Her heat so close to where he wanted it, needed it. “Is it improper to fuck when there is so much sadness?”

“No,” he shook his head, holding her eyes. “This is not wrong. It is real. I need to feel you. I need to be with you. Being with my wife is the only thing that brings me joy. If I have to face my brother's demise at the hands of our sister, I wish to have this moment with you first. You are my light in the darkness of my world.”

Brienne does not move. Her body still on his, watching him with those enchanting eyes. She was still new to them, to this intimacy. For him fucking had always been a way to deal with pain... or more accurately not to deal with it. Cersei had fed that, conditioned him to need her and what she could give him as a way of coping with the tragedies of life. Jaime knew now that had been her way of manipulating him, of keeping him under her control. That was not what was happening with Brienne right now though. This moment was about pushing the pain away and finding solace in the arms of someone he trusted and loved. There was no manipulation. No conditions attached. It was Brienne offering her body and her soul to him.

And that's what he needed. He needed to be enclosed in her arms, to have her body accept his broken and damaged one. Jaime needed to be connected with her in the most intimate way. In every way possible. She made to move off of him and he quickly stopped her. Her eyes widened. “I thought you wanted...”

“I want you on top.”

“Jaime,” she shook her head. Uncertainty filled her eyes. “I am not as light as Cersei is.” 

He frowned at her comparing herself to his past lover. Did she not realize that in a competition she would always win in his eyes? That everything that was different about her was what made him fall so completely? He could have had another Cersei if that was what he desired. There were many like her in Court. Women with claws and sharp tongues that would cut you as soon as fuck you. He _had_ had Cersei. He did not want her now. He wanted the woman who was gnawing at her bottom lip, holding herself above him as to not push all her weight on him. He wanted the woman who would give up her life to protect the ones she loved dearly. He wanted the beautiful soul that would never use a sharp tongue or perfectly sculpted nails to hurt because she did not have to. 

“Brienne,” he pushed her down all the way until her body was flush with his. “If I wanted Cersei, I would go to her. I want you. You believe yourself too large but I see that as a blessing. I want to _feel_ you, My Lady. All of you. Do not fear your size will harm me, because I happen to crave it.” He kissed her slowly and whispered against her lips. “ _Cover me_.”

“I do not know how to do this,” she said softly, pulling away from him. “What if I do it wrong? I want to please you as you have pleased me.”

Jaime leaned up, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. They were breathless and panting when they finally broke apart. “You please me,” he whispered huskily. “You please me more than anyone I have ever known. I know that this is new for you, but Brienne, it is new for me as well. Yes, I have had another lover, but I have never had a wife. I have never been with anyone like you. I am learning about what makes you feel complete from _you_ , just as you are learning what makes me feel complete from me. We are learning together. I do not expect you to know everything, but I know it will be perfect because it is _you_.”

She kissed him once more and then shifted backwards, lifting herself up. She took his throbbing shaft in her hands. “Then show me Jaime.”

He eased into her body carefully, aware that she was still tender from their previous love making and did as she asked. He showed her with his hands upon her skin, his lips on hers, his body moving and thrusting. He helped her show him by listening to her moans. The way she arched and panted. The way she said his name and rolled her hips into him. They learned together and taught each other.

And he was right. It was perfect.

<<>><<>>

Jaime walked through the Red Keep toward the throne room with Brienne at his side. The chest with the dwarf's head had arrived and his insides were quaking in fear of what awaited him. He was terrified that he would be staring into his brother's lifeless eyes. In all his haste to correct his mistakes with Brienne, he never thought that Tyrion might be a victim to the changes. He hoped with all his heart and soul that this was not what the Warrior had planned. It did not seem fair, it did not seem right. He was thankful for his bride, but he did not know how to live in a world without Tyrion.

He had always protected him and if he had failed him now... Jaime swallowed roughly against the lump in his throat. Brienne reached over and linked her pinkie and forefinger with his. It was subtle, just two fingers but he felt a release in some of the tension coursing through him. He would live, even if Tyrion was dead, he would live because of her. He would live to avenge his brother's death.

The throne room had only a few people in it. Jaime searched for Tommen, hoping Cersei had enough kindness left in her that she would not subject their son to seeing his uncle's severed head. He breathed out a quiet sigh of relief that his son was not in the room to witness the gruesome display. Brienne squeezed his fingers one last time and let go of his hand. Her blue eyes were focused on his twin, sitting primly on the dais. Cersei was in turn glaring daggers back at his wife. He eased closer to his bride, staring his sister down. He wanted her to remember his words about what would happen to her if she hurt Brienne. He would kill her. He would commit the great sin of killing his kin, of killing his twin. This would force him to do something he would never have imagined himself capable of... but as he said in the past- the things he does for love.

Jaime would do it without blinking an eye. Cersei pursed her lips, gripping her goblet more firmly in her hand. He urged Brienne to the side of the room where Genna was standing in. She held a thin handkerchief in her left hand, twisting the material around her fingers, in case the box did hold Tyrion inside of it. Her lips was pressed tightly together and her body was shaking a little. Brienne moved away from him and took his aunt's hands in hers. The two women shared a quiet moment. A passing of looks that held so much meaning. Genna was as frightened of what awaited them as Jaime was. 

A man in his early thirties came into the room carrying an ornate wooden chest. The male placed the box at Cersei's feet, falling to his knees and bending low in a show of respect. Jaime felt his anger flare up at that display. She did not deserve respect for what she was doing. Her glee was deplorable and obvious. She was like a child on her nameday. The sparkle in her green eyes turned his stomach. How could he have ever believed himself in love with her? 

“My name is Dariss Kidwell and Iwish to gift you with a present, Your Grace,” the man said from his position. His head rose and he stared at the former Queen. “I hope it is to your liking.”

Brienne gasped at the phrasing. He glanced at her and saw that her endless sapphire eyes were wide with horror. She was just now understanding the joy Cersei would feel at seeing Tyrion dead. She understood and it disgusted her. Jaime took her hand this time and she gripped it hard.

Cersei tried to keep the anticipation from her face. Her practiced coolness was slipping slightly to show her true emotions underneath. Jaime's eyes slipped from Cersei to his father's. The Lannister patriarch was stoic, standing calmly to Cersei's side. His back was arrow-straight and not a flicker of what he was thinking showed. Jaime was frustrated and angry. He wanted to scream at his father for his lack of care. _This could be your son! The last gift our mother gave us and both of you are keen to toss him aside as if Tyrion is trash!_

Jaime wondered what Joanna would say about how her family turned out. Her beloved twins had been in an incestuous relationship since they were children. Her husband rarely showed love to anyone and was coldest to her youngest boy. And that youngest child was being served up to them in a wooden box as if he meant nothing. Jaime swallowed the bile that was crawling and burning up his throat. He hoped she was not watching from her seat beside the Mother. He hoped she would never be aware of how depraved her family had become. 

The man kneeling on the ground unlatched the small iron lock on the chest and flipped open the lid. Jaime moved away from Brienne's side to look with his family at the head resting in the confines of the box. The hair had a mass of blonde curls. Jaime held his breath, praying silently that there would be no black. The prayer went unanswered as he glimpsed strands of dark hair in the mess of light ones. The bile in his throat rose higher. His stomach rolled violently. 

He chanced another glance at his kin. His father's eyes were sharp, but Jaime thought he saw a hint of fear or pain deep in the pale green orbs. Jaime blinked quickly and when he looked again whatever was there in his father's eyes was gone. Cersei's lips were pressed together in a barely contained smile. Her cheeks were flushing in a way he would have called pretty before, but now he could see nothing but the ugliness that colored her soul and blackened her heart. 

The hunter lifted the head out of the box. The cut at the base of the neck was grotesque. There was nothing clean about it. The skin was ripped and covered in rust-colored blood. Jaime held his breath and looked. The face was bruised- purple and yellow. The nose was scarred. The forehead pronounced... but it was not Tyrion.

Relief flooded through his body. His brother was still alive. He looked once more at his family. Tywin's face was still stony and unreadable. His body had not reacted at all. Jaime wanted to believe that his father would not cheer upon his son's death but looking at him now... He was fine with dwarves being killed for sport in the hopes of one of them being Tyrion. Jaime looked away from his father. He could not wait to be away from this viper's nest. He could not wait to be on the road with his wife and his troops. That's where he belonged. King's Landing has never been his home and he was thankful for the fact that he would soon leave this place behind for good.

He looked at Cersei and saw her face contort in anger. “You have disappointed me,” she told the man, her teeth showing. She looked like a caged and furious animal. Her eyes were flashing violently. “This is not the criminal I seek. He is merely a dwarf. Did you really think I would not know the difference?”

Dariss looked frightened at the viciousness that spewed from her mouth. He placed the head back in the box and returned to gaze upon the former Queen. “I was told that the criminal looked as this man did. I did not intend to displease the Crown. I will go back into the woods and hunt down the one you seek so he could pay for his crimes.”

Cersei took a long sip from her goblet. Her cherry lips parted and she smiled at the man. Jaime saw the trap being laid out. He almost felt sorry for the man. Almost. What kept him from giving into the pity was the fact that he was actively trying to kill his brother. “I will give you another chance, Dariss. Return with the head of the traitor and I will reward you handsomely. Fail in your mission and it will be your head on a pike at the gates.” Dariss paled. “Crows need to eat as well. Let us hope it is the criminal they will feast upon and not you.”

He quickly locked the chest and bowed to the former Queen, then rushed from the throne room. Jaime wasted not a moment returning to his wife's side. Brienne looked at him. Her face showed her relief at not seeing Tyrion's head. They still had a chance to return Sansa to Winterfell and save his brother. He smiled at her and she smiled slightly back.

Once he was next to her, he kissed her cheek. Her face flushed bright red and his smile turned into a grin. “My Lady,” he playfully admonished, “you must get over being embarrassed by my affection for you.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “It is not your affection that makes me blush, My Lord. It is the audience witnessing it.”

“I would be embarrassed as well,” Jaime spun around to face his twin's sneering face. All pretense of being welcoming to her good-sister was gone. “Really Jaime,” she hissed, “could you not control yourself? Your wife looks like she has a terrible disease with all the marks on her.” Brienne ducked her head and hunched in on herself. “So distasteful.” Her voice turned sickeningly sweet. “I do not believe you need to concern yourself with branding your bride. No one else would want her.”

Jaime snarled but he stopped when Brienne placed a hand on his arm. He turned back to look at her and saw her mouth set firmly. “It might be true that no one other than My Lord Husband would want me,” her eyes caught his and his heart stopped in his chest. “But that is just fine with me.” Her crystal blue eyes returned to Cersei's jealous ones. “My husband is proud to have me as his wife and has made it clear that he wants the world to know this fact. He has told me that women who would make comments about such a display would either be jealous or bitter. I would not believe you to be either, seeing as your day to wed your betrothed will be soon upon us. I am sure you are just looking out for my well-being, as a true good-sister would.”

He had been proud of her before. He had been in awe of her many times. He had admired her strength since the day he met her. But he had never found her sexier than he did at that moment. Jaime could see the slight shake to her hand and subtle twitch to her eye. Those were her only tells that she was frightened to stand up to Cersei. To anyone who did not know where and what to look for she would appear calm. 

“I am just thinking of you, good-sister,” Cersei said. The venom in her voice was well concealed but he still heard it. “I would hate for another to think less of you, especially with those horrible rumors claiming you to be my brother's whore before you were even betrothed.”

Brienne stuttered. This was a cut she was not expecting. Aunt Genna cleared her throat and Jaime breathed a sigh of relief. “Cersei dear,” their aunt said with the same sickeningly sweet voice, “it is so kind of you to be concerned with your good-sister's reputation. I know how much experience you have had fighting against terrible rumors concerning your brother.”

Cersei's lips pursed in anger. “I would be careful in saying such things, Aunt Genna.” Her tone was colder than the walls of Winterfell. “You may be my aunt, but I am still your Queen.”

“Yes,” Genna nodded with false regret. “I do apologize as I know you would never do anything as immoral as having an incestuous relationship with your twin.” The bite was back and Cersei could do nothing but her emerald eyes expressed how much she wanted to draw blood. “It would be a scandal!” Their Aunt continued. “And one you would never do. I know how much baring our dearly departed King Robert's babes meant to you.”

Jaime closed his eyes for a brief moment before looking at Brienne. He knew how uncomfortable she still felt with his former relationship. The reminder of it from his Aunt could make her shy away from him just when they had gotten to a new place in their relationship. She was standing so still that he feared he was correct and she would be locked in her own insecurities. Instead of shying away though, she reached out and took his hand in hers. The movement was not obvious, but it did draw the attention of Cersei. She showed her teeth in a large, unkind smile.

“Yes,” she said with pure venom. She did not even try to hide it anymore. She knew that no one would believe her saccharine words. “I bore my children with pride and their _father_ knew how much I glowed with the knowledge of their lineage.” Her green eyes locked with his. “You were there Jaime,” her left eyebrow arched. “You remember how I felt having my babes suckle at my teats.”

The words were meant to make him think about her naked breasts and how he used to complain about their children taking those large mounds from his greedy mouth. It was quite telling how he did not even have the desire to glance at them now. Brienne's tits were small, very small, but they fit into his mouth perfectly. Her nipples were sensitive in a way Cersei's were not and most importantly, he was the only one to know the sweetness of them. He smirked. And moved even closer to Brienne. 

“I do recall, sweet sister,” he responded. “I know exactly how much you enjoyed mouths upon your teats.” He glanced up. “Oh, there is Ser Kettleblack!” Cersei's eyes narrowed. “I am sure he can expand on this topic as well.”

Her arm started to rise in reaction to his words before she stopped herself and smoothed down her dress. “I do not know what you mean, dear brother.”

Before he could say another word. Tywin made his presence known. “I would suggest both my children stop this conversation and act like proper Lannisters!” Both Jaime and Cersei reacted to the tone immediately. It was one they knew well and knew not to antagonize him. “Cersei,” his twin looked at their father. “I expect you to act like a Queen and not speak of such matters as these! This type of behavior is not how a Lannister woman, or Knight,” He turned his sharp eyes on Jaime. “Should conduct themselves in public.” Her face turned red, but she quickly nodded and walked away with her head held high. She had been chastised but she would not show the others her embarrassment. “Lady Brienne,” his bride looked at Tywin with wide eyes. “I need to speak with my son. I do hope you will excuse us.”

“Of course, Lord Tywin.” She moved her hand from his and he instantly wanted to reach for it again. “It would give me time to speak with my father before he has to return to Tarth.” She curtsied to him and hesitated before giving Jaime a light kiss to his cheek. “I will see you later, My Lord.”

He took her hand in his to give her knuckles a lingering kiss. “Yes, My Lady,” he held her eyes, pouring all his desire for her into his gaze. “You will.”

She blushed as she pulled away from him and turned to leave the remaining Lannisters alone. Genna sighed at her brother. “You take all the joy from my time here in this Gods forsaken hell, Tywin.” His father eyed her but unlike his children, she did not back down. “Oh stop glaring! You have given that girl too much rope and she is bound to hang herself if someone does not reign her in.” She leveled a look at him. “And that should be her father, but seeing as he is too busy to do the task, I will.”

“She was not wrong, dear sister,” Tywin spoke with authority. “She is still your Queen, even if it is only until Tommen comes of age to take his rightful place. She will use her power as she deems fit to do so.”

“Cersei does not frighten me,” Genna puffed out her large bosom. “I have faced many a tyrant and lived to tell the tale.”

“And most of those times have been because I have protected you,” his father replied.

“I thank you,” Genna smirked. “And I have learned from your ways. It would be foolish not to at least gain a little knowledge from one such as yourself.”

“Flattery, dear Genna, will not change the fact that your words constantly get you into a great deal of unpleasantness and I often have to pull you out.” His face was harsh, but Jaime could see the fondness in his eyes for his younger sibling. “Now if you will excuse us, I do need to speak with my son.”

She grinned at him, “Of course.” The twinkle in her eyes made it hard for Jaime to suppress his own smile. “I am sure I can find something to occupy my time.”

Genna left them alone and Jaime turned to look at his father. There was exasperation reflected on his face before the Lannister patriarch could push it behind his normal mask. Jaime had always been fascinated by the dynamic between Genna and his father. It was really the only time he could see glimpses of the Tywin he had heard stories about. The one who used to find some joy in life and would smile freely. 

Tywin turned to him, “Come Jaime, we need to speak.”

<<>><<>>

Jaime took his seat across from his father in the Hand's solar. Tywin eyed him with cool calculation. He waited for his father to start speaking. His mind was going in many directions, trying to come up with a reason to have this private meeting.

Tywin rested his clasped hands on his stomach and said, “You have made plans with Addam, have you not?” Jaime cursed under his breath. Of course, his father would know of his plans. His father had just as many ears in the walls of the Red Keep as the Spider. Hell, the Spider might have been the one to tell him. “Did you really believe I would not find out?”

_Yes,_ he thought. _And that had been foolish._ He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I trust Addam and want only people I trust on the road with Brienne and myself as we make our way to Casterly Rock. I would think you would appreciate that seeing as the Lannisters are being hunted at the moment.”

“Your sister has her reasons for wanting your brother-”

“And your son,” Jaime interrupted before he could stop himself.

“For wanting Tyrion captured,” Tywin said forcibly. 

“You saw her, father.” Jaime leaned forward. “She does not want him captured. She wants him killed. She wants to parade his head through the streets of King's Landing and place it upon a spike.” Tywin did not say anything and Jaime took that as permission to continue. “Do you hate him so much you wish him dead?”

“He is a traitor, Jaime,” Tywin replied through clenched teeth. His body was tense and he looked much older in that moment. The lines around his mouth deepened as he tried to control whatever emotions he would not show to anyone. “He helped Sansa escape.”

“As did I,” Jaime reminded him. “As did your new good-daughter. Do you wish our heads on spikes for being traitors?”

“Lady Brienne came very close.” Tywin's voice was quiet. It was a warning to not take this conversation any further. “She was loyal to the Starks. The fact that she married you saved her from death.”

Jaime let a bitter smile loose upon his lips. “Yes, I am quite aware of what you would do to an innocent woman you do not care for...”

“Tread carefully, Jaime,” Tywin cautioned. This time Jaime stopped. He did not want to bring any pain to his bride. At his silence, Tywin continued. “I want you to take the troops and return to Riverrun. The Blackfish has seized the castle and the Freys are not up to the task of removing him.” His mouth pulled into a more pronounced frown. “I need this taken care of immediately. That false Targaryen is still gathering support in the Free Cities. I do not need our forces divided.”

Jaime sat up straighter. Riverrun was on the way to the Eyrie. He tried not to seem too eager. “I will need more troops than I was originally planning to take with me to Casterly Rock.”

“Jaime,” Tywin unclasped his hands and gripped the armrests of his chair. “Do not lie to me. You were never very talented at the art and I have not the patience for it. I know you were planning to search for your brother and Lady Sansa. I am being generous in letting you even take the few men you were planning to.” He stood and towered over his son, forcing Jaime to look up at him. “If you manage to take back Riverrun and rid the world of the Blackfish, I may turn a blind eye to your traitorous actions.”

“And if the Blackfish manages to outlast our troops?”

“See that he does not,” was Tywin's only response. “Go and get ready for the journey to the Riverlands. Make quick work of the Blackfish and his allies. I do not wish to waste time on this matter.” Jaime nodded, rising from his chair. He was almost to the door when Tywin spoke again. “If you manage to find the dwarf...” He turned back to his father. Tywin was facing the window, his back toward Jaime. 

“Yes,” Jaime held his breath. Would his father really ask him to kill his brother? Would he place that weight around his neck, that sin on his soul? 

“If you find the dwarf before the men your sister has sent to capture him,” Tywin would not face him. Jaime grew anxious. “Do not bring him back to the capital alive.” Jaime tensed.

“I will not kill my brother,” he stated. Jaime was not sent back by the Gods to kill his baby brother. He refused to believe that. “I am already the Kingslayer. I will not be a kinslayer when Tyrion does not deserve to die.”

Tywin turned around. His green eyes were blank of emotion. “Do _not_ bring him back to the capital alive.”

Hearing it the second time, Jaime understood. Tywin would not save Tyrion from death. He would not stop Cersei from hunting him down. But if Jaime got him to safety... he would not stop that either. Jaime nodded his head to his sire and walked out of the solar. 

His mind was full and he needed to speak with Brienne. Their plans were changing, but mayhaps it was for the best. They could get more information on the Eyrie, Jaime could send soldiers ahead to scout and he would get a chance to right some of the wrongs from his previous life. 

Mayhaps this time the Blackfish would think more of him. Mayhaps being with Brienne would help ease the tension. Or mayhaps it would all go to shit again...

He would find out soon enough.

<<>><<>>

Brienne was in their chambers when he returned. She was packing her belongings up, carefully placing each item in the chest. She turned at the door opening and closing behind him. Her bright blue eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks were flushed. She quickly wiped at the wetness on her face and ducked her head, returning to her task.

Jaime rushed to her side and gently lifted her chin so that she was meeting his eyes again. “What has my wench so sad? Is it the words spoken in the throne room? Have you been hurt? I will hunt down any that lay a hand upon-”

She shook her head, placing a single finger to his lips to stop his rant. “It is not that, Jaime.” She sighed. “I am merely sad that my father will be returning to Tarth in two days while we will be heading North. I feel like I have not gotten to really spend much time with him and I know I will miss him once he has gone back to our tiny island.”

“We will visit him once our vow to Lady Catelyn is complete.” He pulled her close and kissed her right temple. She melted into his embrace. “I have never seen Tarth, but from what I have heard it is quite beautiful. You will have to show me all its secrets.”

She laughed against his neck. “I am afraid that will be a short tour. The island is small, but there are many places where people can be surrounded by nature and be all alone.”

He leaned back to see her face. Her cheeks were bright red and her sapphire eyes were shining. He grinned. “Are you suggesting you will take me to places on your island where you can seduce me?” Her face turned a deeper shade of crimson. “Dear wife,” he cupped her cheek and kissed her passionately. “I can assure you, it will not take much to make me fall prey to your charms.”

“Husband,” she rolled her eyes. “I do not have any charms for you to fall prey to. I do not even understand how you could want to look upon me after having been with your sister.” He opened his mouth but snapped it shut when she placed her finger on his lips again. “I do not understand it, but I know you do. I can feel your desire for me and it is both surprising and overwhelming.”

Jaime kissed her finger and took her hand in his. “You are surprising and overwhelming to me as well, Brienne.” He thought about how to put into words what he felt when he was with her and nothing came to mind that would be grand enough to cover all the emotions she ignited in him. “You might believe you do not have any appeal, but that is a falsehood that I will spend the rest of my days proving wrong.” He pressed his mouth to hers in a slow kiss. She responded by wrapping her long arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He reluctantly ended the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “I have some news about our journey.”

“Does this have to do with what your father wished to speak to you about?”

“Aye,” he confirmed. “He wants us to remove the Blackfish from Riverrun. The Tully forces have captured the castle.”

Her face went tight. “We swore, you swore, that we would never raise arms against a Tully or a Stark to Lady Catelyn.”

“I swore I would never shed their blood,” he reminded her. “I do not wish to cause them harm, but I have to follow my father's orders.” She started to release him, but he held on tight. “I am not going to shed the blood of a Tully man if I can avoid it. I believe with you at my side we can convince the Blackfish to surrender without force.”

“How could I be of help? The Blackfish does not know me or about my short time in Lady Catelyn's service. He will see me as traitor for marrying a Lannister when I had sworn myself to his family.”

“Lord Brynden Tully is a stubborn man, but he knows a just person when he sees one.” He held her close again. “I do not know anyone more just and noble than you, my wife. I believe you will be the best one to help him understand that no one else has to perish over some stone and land.”

“Jaime,” she sighed. “I do not disagree with him. It is his family's home and it was taken from them by underhanded means. The Freys killed his family in one of the vilest of ways. He has the right to take a stand and want to reclaim what is his by birthright.”

He moved away from her and paced the floor. “I see your point and I can not say I do not feel for his family. The way the massacre happened was without honor, but, my wife, that is war. Honor rarely finds allies in war. It is about winning and forcing your enemy to fall upon his knees.” He stopped pacing and stared at her. Her face was white and her eyes were wide. “This life is not pretty. There is a lot of tragedy and people do things they do not like to end the pain and despair quicker. The Red Wedding ended the North's claim to the throne. It was not honorable, but it achieved what it was supposed to.”

“I know war is filled with many horrible things,” she said softly. “I just... it is not as I imagined it.”

“It is often the wretched truth that hardens the heart.” He walked back to her. “I wish that your heart never hardens. It is one of your most beautiful parts. It is one of the reasons I find you so attractive.”

Brienne blushed at his words of devotion and ducked her head so he could not see how affected she was. “When do we leave?”

“Daybreak,” he answered. “I wish to finish this quickly and complete the vow to return Sansa to her kin. I would also like to search for Tyrion before those hunters find him.”

“I shall finish packing then. We have much to do before daybreak.”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “We do.”

<<>><<>>

The sun peeked over the horizon, bathing the gates in a pale orange glow. Jaime sat on his horse and prepared himself for the journey ahead. He remembered the last time he took this trip. He had been forced to leave the capital by his own son. A son who had been pulled in too many different directions by people that did not have his best interests at heart. This time, Jaime would not leave Tommen to be preyed upon. He looked over at Addam and smiled slightly. Tommen would be making his own journey soon. He would be following in Jaime's own footsteps.

There were not many of the Lannister vassals he trusted, but there was one. Tommen would begin squiring for Lord Tybolt Crakehall in a fortnight. The plans had been finalized with Tywin that morn. Jaime was prepared to sneak his son from the capital if the need arose. That was what he had been planning to do with Bronn, but this turn of events was better. Tommen would be out of King's Landing and away from the damaging presence of Cersei. Jaime had very few bargaining tools but the ones he did, he used to spare his son. He would not have Tommen meet the same fate in this life as he had in Jaime's previous one. His youngest boy deserved a chance to grow and find himself before being pushed into the role of King. 

Tywin was not thrilled to lose control, but even he could see Cersei's spiral into madness. Tommen, meanwhile, was wide-eyed at the thought of being a knight like his uncle. The smile that stretched across his lips filled Jaime with joy. He was doing right by his son. He was doing as the Father had told him.

_You fathered three children but were never a true father to any. Justice never came from your hand when they needed it._

He would be just... with the children he had with Cersei and the ones Brienne would hopefully bring into the world. He would be a better father. He had still failed Joffrey, but he could save his two youngest. 

The horse pranced under him, anxious to begin the journey. Addam and Brienne, who was on his other side, waited for him to give the signal. He nodded his head again, this time to the men at the gate. The heavy wooden doors slowly opened to the road beyond the walls. 

“Forward march!” Addam called.

As the group left King's Landing, Jaime felt a wave of relief. He was finally leaving that horrible city with his wife at his side. The road would be rough, but Jaime was ready. Brienne eased her horse close to his.

“We will take back Riverrun without bloodshed, My Lord Husband.” She spoke the words with conviction. “We will save your brother and Lady Sansa. I know this. I feel it.”

“My Lady,” he reached over and took her hand, kissing her knuckles. “I do as well.”

She turned back to the road and together they urged their horses forward. The journey had just begun.

<<>><<>>

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! Thank you!


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